Tag: relationships

What Love Is

Published on by Tosha Michelle39 Comments

Cool Artsy Shoes

Love isn’t
a weekend in Belize.
It’s not flattery.
Rarely, the perfect fit.
It isn’t cake and schnapps
or a walk by the river
with Thoreau

Love is
a photograph cropped,
rearranged, often marred
It’s an arsenal of joy,
of pain, a loaded gun
Locked, fired, reloaded,
fired again.

It’s salty, gritty
rarely sweet, at times solid
at others, a noddle slip
off a chopstick.
It’s a Rorschach test
a complex algorithm
disordered thoughts

Films never get it right.
Songs sometimes do.

Love is
difficult,
a chalkboard lesson,
in Mechanics and
Special Relativity

Love is
a Dixie cup
full of gin
the brush of angel’s wings
horse’s hooves in hell

Love is
true.
Seldom,
but when it is,
it wears sensible shoes.

-Tosha Michelle

All About Men -A New List 

Published on by Tosha Michelle24 Comments

 My darling friend Randy is a big fan of my silly lists so this is for her and all you men out there. I must confess these are my favorite kind and it’s about time I did a new one.

What Women Wished Men Knew

1. We don’t like mixed signals. Mixed drinks on the other hand

2. Don’t walk ahead of us. Walk with us and hold our hand. 

3. Chocolate and jewelry will get you out of a world of trouble

4. The kitchen counter, up against a wall, on your desk are great places to place knickknacks or if you can think of something better to do with the aforementioned, we’d be totally down for that

5. Sometimes we cry. Deal with it

6. If were having sex with you, odds are we care, so proceed cautiously when it comes to our feelings

7. When we talk, listen. Yes, with your ears and with your heart and mind

8. Sometimes being romantic just means being there and in the moment

9. Don’t be afraid of that universal, wonderful little four letter word… 

Menu 

10. You are unique and special but Beyoncé sums ir up best. Don’t you ever get to thinking

https://youtu.be/2EwViQxSJJQ 

 

She’s

Published on by Tosha Michelle53 Comments

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She ‘s Beatrice and Delilah.
an illusion, a crime

She’s a skyscape that slips
from blue, to grey, to red.

She’s a spider web over
a bank vault.

She’s the pull swirling
in his chest.

She’s a whisper of longing
stuck in his ear.

She’s a wilder life, the sweet
seed, his heart’s core.

She’s a sigh, ragged and
melancholy.

She’s a crushing need
a helix of yearning.

She’s chemistry and anatomy.

She’s the witching hour’s
pleasures of bourbon and sin.

She’s soaked in summer,
spun in contradictions.

She’s a flame grabbing what
it wants, a tumultuous embrace.

She’s a thousand lips bruising
his skin.

She’s a back arching, guttural
moan.

She’s rhythm and release.

She’s as intrusive as a power
outage

She’s as frustrating as a
misstep.

She’s as elusive as spindrift
night.

She’s a woman set in his type,
born in ink, language spilling out.

She’s what he conjugates.
The artistry of his craft

-Tosha Michelle

https://youtu.be/DvR16OrfuII

Little Boy Blue and Mary Quite Contrary

Published on by Tosha Michelle58 Comments

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Dear Past,

It’s been awhile. I come waving a
flag of peace and unarmed.
My arsenal is depleted.
I have no time for hate or malice
laced air.
I imagine like me
you want to live in peace without
the threat of guns and
claws. To awaken to the sound
of serenity, not bombs going off
in the distance.

I hope hearing from me doesn’t cause you pain.
Frankly, I miss you. Your theatrical ways,
always leaning toward a Shakespearean tragedy.
No time for much ado about nothing.
Although, everything had to be as you like it.
How you were
a master at parlor games and word play.
Your eyes a depletion
of fallen leaves and green tea.
Hair as dark as a grackle.
Arch so charming, fencing with
unseen stars. Little boy blue,
and Mary. Mary, oh, so contrary.
How our garden did grow.
Shells that pelted the ground,
causing wreckage and carnage.
It wasn’t all welts and hell.
There were days when light swelled
and sliver bells grew.

But i digress, as I climb a slide of memories,
backwards with slippery hands.
My legs lose traction,
my lungs clog with dust.

I end up on the ground negotiating
with my untapped toe.
Trying to reclaim the beat with
half recounted facts
and nostalgia’s false sense of rhythm.
Holding a few cards in the hand you deftly dealt me.
Beside me lies a map, marred
by revisions.
that reads let it go. Let it go.

I stand up, and realizes there’s a
tear in my heart, that I
mistook for my sleeve. I walk through the open gate,
ignoring the stained alleyways,
cobble stone,
and street lights shaped like a question marks.
The scent of orchids lingers in
the tired air.
My soul fighting off bees and
the counter winds.
You, dear past, will always sting.

-Tosha Michelle

Willfully Wild

Published on by Tosha Michelle45 Comments

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If your going to love,
love wilfully and wildly,
like a leaf on the wind
soaring out,
with abandonment.
Burn yourself through
for passion.
Make an altar of greater than.
Praise longing and
its insanity

Love bold men,
the ones like red umbrellas
with strong wooden
handles, and a fancy inscription,
big and deep, that makes you
feel like the daintiest
of ladies out for an
afternoon stroll,
his sheltering arms
keeping out the misty rain.

Let every idea you have
be love.
Study him like
you would the curve
of the horizon.
Follow your instinct,
lose the pattern.
Go where he goes.
Don’t let the sun disappear.
Let it swell
and put him first,
draw him closer,
until he believes in you
and the sky trembles
when you touch.

Fall
Fall
into his eyes, his thighs,
the pulse of his being.
Fall into ripeness, rightness,
until time is stripped away,
and your soul is cast in
forethought. Forethought
brushed in red and heat.
Never to be an afterthought.

If you’re going love, love
willfully and wildly until
you are spent, until the stars
shatter over the white tips
of pillowcase as two lovers
fall out of God’s mouth into
rapture.

-Tosha Michelle

My cover of The Eagles “Desperado” for Sunny Day

These Foolish Things

Published on by Tosha Michelle5 Comments

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Oder?/Nicht?

Narcissistic and solipsistic
Perfected persona
Brilliant promotion
The Egotist HIM
Reflecting- illuminating
The Parasitic WE

Uppercase Conscience
lowercase nothingness

Exotic occultation
Discarded drapes
Faded facade
Man behind the curtain
Revealed and released

Introverted and reclusive
Urbane and well versed
Boyish and charming
Sly wit- understated grit
Ridiculously insane

Weirdly sublime
Quick to opine
Abstemious but salacious
Burlesque without the bourbon
Cranberry juice- No wine

Awkward and nerdy
Suave and dirty
A foreign culture
One of a kind
an original high

Overtly domineering
Covertly controlling
Maddening manipulator
Lunatic generator
Mischief maker

A shadow rider
Crossing lines

Chess master
Playing minds

A comedy of errors
A tragedy of wills

Mistaken missteps
Decimated land mine

A predisposed assumption
A steadfast exclusion

Forward drag

Seductive reincarnation
Poetic crossbow
Taking aim
Semantics rounds
No error in form
Story crest
Bowed illusion
Target hit

Unfulfilled ghost
Evaporated time
Miscarriage of intent
lies between you and I
Psychological filler
Masochistic reiteration
Empty leads
Bridge-less divide.

Demarcation erased
Dwindling mirage
Mind fog-lifted
Visual adjustment
Heart muted
Watch out
Back to reality I climb

Until..
of course…
next time…

-Tosha Michelle

Our Lost Spring.

Published on by Tosha Michelle6 Comments

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Do you recall our lost spring?
The time of never ending evenings
Long walks through the park
Hands that never parted
Love found amidst dandelion promises
and sweet grass memories

Do you recall our lost spring?
The time of moonshine and fireflies.
Our melody so loud, it drowned out the crowd.
No pretense. Only divine truths.
We didn’t need anyone’s approval.
All we saw was the potential in each other

Do you recall our lost spring?
The time of sweet wine and soul drenching passion,
endless kisses that melted into the night dew,
glistening on a bed we never wanted to leave,
where all I could taste was forever on your skin.
and we pulsated in time, with our own celestial rhythm.

Do you recall our lost spring?
I do. Memories sweep in when the days become short,
and Jack Frost’s icy breath shivers down my neck.
My soul frostbitten. My heart cold.
I close my eves for a brief moment
I can smell your fresh untainted scent.
I’m transport back to our warm sultry lost spring,
where hope dances in on zephyrs
Love beams off clouds of cotton
Spring becomes nectar in my veins,
and withe a faint smile. I savor what could have been.

-Tosha Michelle

Self Help to Self Harm: The Dubious Guide to Life, Love, and Relationships.

Published on by Tosha Michelle7 Comments

I really hate self promotion. My friend Andy is a pro at it. I’m borrowing a page from him. Please check out my latest book

Self Help to Self Harm: The Dubious Guide to Life, Love, and Relationships.

Hey, I didn’t say the page I borrowed wasn’t obnoxious. The Bold and Annoying.

But I digress ( don’t I always?)

Self Help to Self Harm: The Dubious Guide to Life, Love, and Relationships. (can’t stop, won’t stop)

is a humorous, tongue-in-cheek look at life, love, and relationships, tempered by moments of serious introspection. This book won’t get you laid, help you lose ten pounds, cure your addictions, or draw you closer to God or Starbucks (whatever you worship).

Way to sell it, right? Hopefully, it will make you chuckle and cause you to rethink your One Direction hate.

You can purchase the book here:

http://amzn.com/0692417400

If you like it,  I’d really appreciate if you would consider leaving a review on Amazon, GoodReads, and Barnes&Noble. If you don’t like it..well…keep that sh** to yourself. Kidding.

I Cried.

Published on by Tosha Michelle8 Comments

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I swear I am not as angst filled as my poetry might suggest. 🙂

I Cried.

I cried for you.

Drenching my pillow.

Liquid fragments of a broken soul.

They left a trail from my heart to my cheek.

so much angst and sorrow.

a ballad of a dark kind of madness.

Tears falling down.

Each drop a cadence of gut wrenching pain.

The reverberation of nothing and everything.

Crashing down.

In a crescendo of grief.

Leaving me mute.

My version of “Clean”

Miss. Nothing

Published on by Tosha Michelle4 Comments

download (3)

1. Real beauty- the kind you find in museums and great literature- is eternal. True beauty comes from the soul and touches the spirit. Note  to all the jerks out there- it’s not about cup size or the shape of the thighs. It’s about the condition of the heart and the state of the mind.

2.Pet peeve- Fickle people who are only interested in the next best thing. Human beings are not expendable. Sincerity and genuine affection carry much more weight than false flattery.  I don’t understand having an ADD-like mindset when it comes to friendship. End rant. Cue silliness.

3. Do people who use the expression “cray cray” know how “stew stew” they sound? (ugh)

4. What’s up with the smiles, Pepperidge Farm’s Goldfish? We are so going to eat you! Cue philosophical thought

5. Don’t wait on people to love you. Lead the way. Be a compass of kindness and compassion.

7. The authentic you is beautiful. If you want to impress, be yourself. Trust me, “realness” is a precious commodity. I strive to always be genuine (at times, to my detriment)

8. Speak your truth. Love without conditions. Live without limitations. Count your blessings. Life is fleeting.

9. If you can’t be polite, kindly keep you mouth shut. Manners matter.

10. On Monday, I get to speak to one of my favorite intellectuals- Author and Philosopher -Professor, Mark Kingwell The nerd in me can’t wait.. He doesn’t have a pretentious bone in his body. Mark a true delight to listen to. It’s going to be a fun and illuminating hour. (stoked)

Tune in here:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/laliteraticarpelibrum/2015/04/27/the-return-of-philosopher-and-author-mark-kingwell

Miss. Nothing.

Final Thoughts:

The mark of a true rebel (to me) is a person who fights against apathy, who embraces their humanity and looks beyond the surface. It easy to be mean spirited, selfish, materialistic, and shallow. It takes heart and tenacity to embrace traits like honesty, integrity, compassion, kindness, and loyalty.

It’s not about taking the moral high ground. No one is better than anyone else. We don’t all have to believe a certain way or be a certain way. But it sure would be nice if everyone could embrace love, forget about hate, and learn to live in harmony. Hey, a girl can dream. By the way, my rebel wears a suit, smells like Dior, and is handy with a wrench, a pen, and frying pan.

Anyway, gather round, children. Let’s all hold hands and sing a rousing rendition of Kumbayah.