Lost in an endless wasteland of insipidness.
Not knowing who to trust.
Groping around in the darkness.
Seeking light and renewal.
Lost with no direction.
With no compass to guide me.
Lost in my thoughts,
A labyrinth of confusion
Lost in the past, with an uncertain future
What will be my path?
Lost in worry, endless drifting.
With so many decisions still left to be made.
Lost yet not forgotten
Hope‘s flame still burns.
Knowing somehow, someday, the tables will turn.
Sadness creeps up my spine,
Sneaking up covering my eyes.
Taking my breath.
Stealing my serenity.
Melancholy rains down
I try to shake it off
The drops linger.
Peace just beyond my reach.
Floating out in space without me.
-Tosha Michelle
I know it may sound cliche.
But kiss me in the pouring rain.
Draw me near, my dear.
Whisper my name.
As a divine revelation..
Push me up against the wall
Hands in my hair.
Lips and bodies entwined.
As our hearts beat faster.
The pheromones between us
Stealing our air.
Fervor kisses in the rain.
Connecting the place where
Desire and hope meet.
Sending a message from fingertips
To toes, and straight to our souls.
Droplets falling faster.
As we become enraptured.
Stardust kissed illuminations..
Spirits soaring wild and free.
Getting drenched in skin soaked madness.
Basking in the cloud’s teardrops.
Tenderness and passion raining down.
-Tosha Michelle
Removing my rose colored glasses.
Stepping down from my Ivory Tower.
Into a broken world.
Kicking Pollyanna to the curb.
Yesterday everything was disposable.
Self pity was my guide.
Always crying wolf.
For the suffering I had known.
Today the bubble burst.
Choking on my own callous disregard.
Slapping me out of my apathetic slumber.
To hell with selfishness and pride.
Eyes wide open. The blinders off
My heart cries..my soul aches
For the child who’s never known love.
Only abuse and neglect.
For man in need of a home.
Making a bed out of concrete and stone.
For the drug addict who fallen through the cracks.
Who can’t find her way back.
For empty bellies and a cruel world.
The sex slave being pimped on the street.
Only 15 years old her body bought and sold.
For war torn countries, surrounded by senseless death.
Genocide, mutilated figures, horrific acts..all in the name of hate.
Smashing my rose colored glasses against the wall of apathy.
Tearing down the Ivory Tower.
I live n the light of grace
Vowing to be a voice for change.
To take a stand, to never lie down in complacency again.
My shield hope. My sword compassion.
Eyes wide open in clarity and love.
-Tosha Michelle
Mr. Elite
Mr. Elite with a rose in his lapel,
Wearing a condescending smile,.
A mask of civility and refinement,
Underneath he is repelled.
A girl in a vintage dress, demure and shy,
Humble visage, wanting only to impress.
A heartfelt smile, a beguiling sigh.
She briefly catches his eye.
Her apprehended affections,
Cast aside like bad tasting wine.
Mr. Elite with the rose in his lapel.
Slowly watched as the flower fell.
And upon descending left a black spot
a permanent mark.
The proud flower,
in all its bold and illustrious wonder.
The sheen of propriety. Gone.
Tarnish by a callous disregard.
Mr. Elite for a second wavered in his shallow ways.
But for the girl the rose had lost it luster.
Stay with me
And sit awhile
On the porch
In the swing
And sway
With me
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 clock strikes midnight,
Before the wolf bares his teeth,
Before the hourglass runs out,
While there’s still time,
To wish upon a star,
On the porch
In the swing
And sway.
While upon a time once,
Slowly fades away…
-Tosha Michelle
The silliest of silliest..
Not Quite-The Cat in The Hat….
My cat can rock, My cat can roll.
He knows how to keep with the beat.
Dancing around in the streets.
My cat can recite Shakespeare with ease
You see, he’s fluent in CATionese
My cat is king of all he surveys.
Mostly, he’s surveys his food bowl.
My cat is an expert at snoozing.
Who knows.. perhaps, he’s been boozing.
My cat is the greatest of muses.
Poets and writers he inspires.
My cat is cool…the coolest of the cool.
He’ll snort his nip. And not give a …sh…..amen
My cat is a saint and a sinner.
His whole world revolves around dinner.
My cat is a superior
Just look at his posterior.
My cat is the greatest.
And now it been stated.
My cat will never be overrated.
This nonsense brought to you by-Crazy Cats Ladies Everywhere and Yours Truly.
Happy Holidays!! May your turkeys and stockings be stuffed. The love and wine ever flowing. and may Santa find you being naughty and nice. xo
Uh huh, yes, I’m talking to you, OK, well, not talking, but,you know.what I mean. In addition to Chit Chat Chicks Live which if you haven’t checked out, you really should. (we bring you laughter, snark and some pretty amazing guests)…I’ve started a new podcast with my dear friend James Dennard If you enjoy books, are handy with a pen and paper, then La Literati might be the show for you. This is our way of giving back to all our writers friends, who’s words inspire and transform us. Folks like you. We’d appreciate it, if you would like our Facebook page. We’re so needy! We’re booking poets and authors now. Feel free, to get in touch. Please, see, links after description and a little info on James and myself.
Show Description
La Literati is a monthly show about poetry, books and the authors who inspire. We strive to bring you in depth interviews that illuminate. Every conversation is a story. We hope through our show, the listeners will develop a greater appreciation for writing, reading and those addicting things called book.
Join hosts, Tosha Michelle and Jim aka Niles, the constant readers, as they take you on a literary journey of discovery, wonder and the fine art of reading- a Bibliophilia dream.
Don’t forget the coffee and chocolate. We’ll provide the Southern hospitality and entertainment.
The Hosts
Tosha Michelle- a reformed Southern Belle, who lives to write, thrives on creativity, earning degrees and majoring in snark. A lifelong devotee of Godiva chocolates, so hide your sweets. A human rights advocate and lover of all things feline and girly
Jim-Teacher. Writer. Book Lover. True Southern Gent. David Hyde Pierce’s Doppelganger (at least according to his pal, Tosha Michelle)
https://www.facebook.com/carpelibrumblogtalkradio
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/carpelibrum
and if you dig chicks..check us out here.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/chitchatchickslive
and here
In every life there’s always a moment
Where we lose ourselves
And the gray takes over.
Colorized in shades of black and blue
there are times
Where all we see is a haze of yellow
and we find ourselves
Basking in the warmth of assurance.
A mirage of transcendental tones,
Self and not self
Doership and discipleship
we wrestle with reality and myth.
Creating distinctions in the labyrinth of our minds,
Painting on a canvas
Of the ridiculous and sublime
Ruminating upon
Thoughts of power,
Fate and choice
Salted, peppered, and sprinkled,
With philosophical introspection,
of purple, green and dazzling shades of
The Existential who?
The seas, the sky,
Me, myself
And I,
Creating, defining,
Defying, perplexing,
Pondering, wondering,
Wandering oxygen becomes fire
With red being the only hue.
-Tosha Michelle Woody
Society’s greatest ill is apathy and the cost of that indifference is losing touch with our humanity. It’s not enough to just observe. We have to do more, expect more and be more. Being submissive is not an option when it comes to economical, social, environmental and political issues. Our voices matter. Our actions count.
Don’t just observe. Get involved. Don’t just think. Do. Don’t just exist. Live.
Apathy your momentous
Tune lulls us to sleep.
In our somber slumber
Dreaming dreamless dreams.
Solace is found in a mind-
Numbing hypnotic sound.
In our cationic state
There is no hope, no pain.
Only blissful unawareness.
In our hibernation
We are safe from-
Addiction,
War,
Famine,
Genocide,
Poverty,
Racism.
They don’t exist
In our drowsy bliss.
Silent and unaware
We doze on as the world
Spins Madly on
Raging on
Warring on.
We lay lost;
Entranced in the
Sublime banality of
A shadow of leafless,
Fruitless trees.
-TMW
“The rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.”
― John F. Kennedy
Everything I Never Told You 