THE GIRL I DIDNT LIKE

The girl i didn’t like…

I didn’t like that girl,

The one looking back back at me,

From behind  the mirror.

All I see is her faults,

Her mistakes…

Constantly misjudged,

Misunderstood, and insulted…

Always taken for granted

I saw her weakness,

And i hated her..

How people walked all over her,

In and out as they pleased..

What’s worse? She let them…

She got tired of being accused ,

And being guilted for what she didnt do

She went out and did them.

She never put up a fight

For what she believed in her heart was right

And the moment it got hard, she quit.

Never quite felt like she fit in,

Never quite knew her part.

She cried, more than she smiled,

Her hot tears burned holes through her heart.

The girl who traded her principles,

To be politically correct,

And Socially acceptable.

How i loathed her,

With every value she sold,

She sunk deeper,

Till she Breathed water.

A little sleep a little slumber,

Counting pennies by the tracks,

Watching helplessly,

As destinies depart,

Train after train,

she sat there,

Seeking company,

In anyone and anything,

Hungrily yearning to feel complete

Unwhole,empty, scourned,

Died a million deaths,

But never mourned.

Too blinded in her weakness

To find her might.

Too scared of loosing

to join in the fight.

Double minded,

Undecisive,

Uncertain,

Uncomfortable in her own skin,

Ready to settle,

For far too little.

I hated her so much,

Till i grew to love her,

I came to know that girl,

And came to the shocking realization,

That I was infact, that girl.

Hating her was the easy way out,

Blaming her saved me,

I never got to take responsibility,

Or Commit to my journey.

You see?,

I sat pretty,

Whilst concealing my reality

Focused on the end result,

Whilst neglecting the process

I trembled in the face of every challenge,

Scurrying back to my comfort zone.

Helpless and alone.

And now that i know better,

I am done hating her,

Infact, I am done being her.

HEY GUYS,

You might have been wondering if it was a wrap, believe me , I wondered the same thing too. In the spirit of honesty, I would love to say I took that long break because I was busy, Life took a toll on me, Or any fantastic excuse I can cook up, but it really wasn't the case . You might notice that the post today is not very poetic, no oxymorons, or similes, or any figurative language. I aimed to be very lucid with this post, so that nothing gets lost in translation, but that doesn't make it any less of a poem,although slightly exaggerated for effect.For a moment there I had a full plate of school work, exams etc.. but for the most time, I was just being somewhat of a quitter.The truth is, I lost inspiration, for the longest time , I searched for the connection I once shared with my pen, with words, I lost it.

I lost inspiration because I never got the result I expected, the calculated end I anticipated, and what's worse , I was hurt by the rejection. People told me all sorts , directly and indirectly...''poems are lame..., in the light of recent evolution,poetry is uninteresting, why don't you do a gossip blog, fashion blog? ..., A sports blog will be great.., '' they voiced all sorts of unsolicited opinions that quite frankly gave me second thoughts, third , fourth, on and on till I was void of words, till my pen became a stranger to me..

I became the girl constantly throwing pity parties, bending my opinions to fit into what was expected of me. I Couldn't commit to anything, I ran with this diet till i didn't and then that fitness plan till i didn't, and then this chapter, that gym ... I soon couldn't complete anything i picked up,I became a quitter.

I am my truest in my words, my verses, my poems. A very special person taught me that if i could be that invested in what people who didn't believe in me or my gift thought of me and let it affect me in the manner that it did, i could not but imagine how far i could go if i alligned my self with the people who believed in me, even if its a single person. Not every one understands my craft or my art, that in itself makes it special as it is not for everyone.Said person also taught me that.

That being said, I am so sure I was not the only one going through this phase, so if u hated or still hate the girl or the boy in the mirror, this post is dedicated to you. it sounds very cliche , because every one talks about change but no one really tells us how to achieve it, or warns us against the dangers of not embracing it. For me, this very post, me writing and spilling my heart out here, is proof in itself. I am terrified but I Will weather it, and when next I take a look in the mirror, it will be a beautiful view. I do hope it is the same for you. Quick disclaimer, if your life is a perfect bed of roses, no flaws and all,please feel free to ignore this post. This is for the real people with real problems . Be blessed!

WITH ALL MY HEART,

PAMELA.

''ALL I HAVE EVER KNOWN''

He hit me back then,

Day after day,

I could not cry,

I could not shout,

I could not tell anyone,

What it was about.

I thought to myself,

maybe he didn’t mean to do it,

And hit after hit,

I ran out of excuses to give,

for the man i called Father.

And Just when I thought it was over,

It began again.

He got me a pretty dress,

another day, it was chocolate.

To buy my forgiveness,

Or maybe it was my silence,

It worked the first dozen times,

But after stealing my innocence,

My taste buds grew numb.

The only love I have  ever known,

Was at the end of a clenched fist.

Black eyes, swollen lips and broken ribs.

Raised voices and hateful words,

And i grew so fond of the hurt,

I wore the pain on my sleeves.
Till this very day.

I know he will hit me again tomorrow,

And the day after,

Then he ll give me more gifts,roses,

make worthless promises.

And I will flash a broken smile,

Through my lifeless eyes.

He will tell me he loves me,

And I will believe him,

Just like I did my father..

He will desire my body,

And I will lay there,let him take it..

then hit me again after.

A little foundation and concealer,

always does the trick.

covers up the bruises perfectly,

while I rot underneath..

no one can know about my pain,

that I die a little bit more each day.

I thought about leaving,

But where would I go?

A breathtaking collage of bruises and scars,

Who can fix this broken,wounded soul..

I tried many times to start over,

But this love is all I have ever known.

Hey guys,
It's so good to be back. I really missed my wonderfully supportive readers but also I've been a little busy trying to turn my lemons into lemonade if you know what I mean. If you have read the above poem you might wonder what kind of monsters would do these things? why is she so stupid? why won't she leave?
I promise you guys, these things are really going on and not only is it going on ,1 out of 10 females are victims of one form of abuse or the other. and some of them are girls close to you and you might not have any idea. From the above piece, I tried to show how often times,it begins with the child. Some men really have no business being fathers and they have scarred so many little girls to the point of no return, so much that the abuse has now become a norm for them. Please please and please, we need to start taking psychological and emotional health more seriously especially in Nigeria. The whole country is going up in flames right from its roots, the common man on the street is angry as hell, taking it out on the next and to the next till it becomes an unending cycle of rage and violence and jungle justice. people are hurting silently everyday, slowly dying , why can't we just admit we need help? Professional help ,not just a visit to your local pastor. Not to say that pastors are no good but some people have more damage than one counselling session with their pastors can reach.
Since I am no expert at spiritual affairs, Let me get back to my girls real quick, If you are being abused or know someone who is, please start by speaking to someone or advice them to do so. Seek help, no one can help you except you. Don't Suffer and die in silence.I promise you, there is better out there.So much better and all you have to do is take the first step, tell someone, it might be difficult but once you find that courage, there will be no going back. I Love you and I am rooting for you.

        
WITH ALL MY HEART,
PAMELA.

Melanin Strong...

She is mother earth,
she is the black girl,
crude beauty,
dripping melanin and honey

Spreading out in shades,
of dark chocolate,
to white gold,
to deep bronze with
caramel topping
and oh.. that glow
there is nothing
quite like it.
there is no one 
on this earth,
judged as much
as the black girl,
she's too fat, too thick
too short, too tall,
she's too loud, too weak
and oh.. the way she talks...
Damn it!.
Its just the way she talks..
just because its not your lingo,
or doesn't confine her in a box,
its doesn't fit in the status quo..
so what if she laughs out loud,
and is not afraid to speak her mind?
and when she stands out of the crowd,
you call it pride.
how can you like,
 what you cant control?

Beautiful black girl,
earth strong,
losing herself,
to skin toners,
plastic surgeries,
and hair relaxers,
all to fit in and  find beauty 
in herself again,
beauty that was always there,
but she was just too broken to see

She is melanin strong,
raising that child,
and working that job,
from nine to five,
pleasing that man,
and all with a smile,
the most radiant  of all.

What it takes,
to put that hair in place,
thick black nappy curly,
stubborn strands of beauty..
and those lips,
once an object of mockery,
now being bought,
paid for with hard money,
ain't that funny?

Ain't it funny ?
how the qualities,
of the black girl,
cost so much more 
than she who possesses them?
those breasts, those hips
that body,
thick and heavenly,
covered evenly,
in sparkly gold dust,
and every single inch
dripping melanin and honey..

Does it really matter her age?
be it 20,40, or 60
that beauty cant ever fade,
and every line on  that face,
tells a story,  a treasure,
you cant replace.

She is melanin strong,
mother earth,
the black girl,
she doesn't only look different,
she is different.
every lock of hair,
every inch of flesh,
every scar, or stretch mark,
is beauty and strength,
appreciate her or not,
she is enough.
she is melanin strong. 


Hey Darlings,
    I am writing this to show my allegiance to my sisters all over the world. I find that not only are we not appreciated by the world, we are not appreciated by one another. Every black woman is beautiful in her own distinct way, and I believe we need to  actually start believing it. The problem we have lies in letting the media decide and define what beauty is, and the standards there of, which are quite frankly impossible and unreal. They are succeeding in making us so uncomfortable in our own skin and our bodies that girls are paying so much money to buy the bodies that the media defines as real beauty. So what if your tummy is not flat enough, your complexion is not light enough, or your nose is not slim enough, your breasts are not peeping through the neck of your dresses, put a sock in it or get one of those super foamy bras and get on with it, your butt is not hitting things down when you are passing through a market place? SO WHAT? In a world of Kardashian's , Black chyna's,Amber rose's and Nicki minaj's ,we need the Oprah's, the Viola's, Maya angelou's, Clara brown's, Chimamanda's, Mo abudu's.. ( cant even keep count) point is, girls,stand up and be worth more than your figure, or physical attributes,Be better than the Instagram twerkers, and more importantly, appreciate one another, build each other up instead. Now there is a force that the world could use. Just imagine the grounds that could be broken...
To my black brothers, if you have a beautiful woman by your side , you are not appreciating her, you are not empowering her, you are not encouraging her, please I ask you.. what are you doing?

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS READ, COMMENT, SHARE, AND SUBSCRIBE!
WITH ALL MY HEART,
PAMELA.

NO WORDS

There are simply no words,

To explain how I feel

No words can express my hurt

Or make the pain less real.

I love to sit and stare,

As the sky turns blue.

Imagining how very rare,

It is to find such a fool.

The fool I had been at a time,

When I thought you really cared,

When I thought your heart was mine,

And I had conquered fear.

Words can never express,

How far i could have gone.

Fear of losing you made me restless,

And my foolishness was next to none.

I could walk a thousand miles,

Searching for the curse,

That made me fall for your lies:

So easily, you didn’t even have to force.

I can try to explain,

At Least give it a shot,

Loving you was a loss I can never regain,

The pain can never be put into words.

The pain might have been outrageous

But the relief is even more extreme

To have broken free from chains so hideous

I wonder how much worse it could have been.

Here I am at the end of the road,

Standing in the shadows.

Choosing to drop this heavy load,

Hoping for a pot of gold ,

at the end of this rainbow.

I have come to realize that,

You were no good for me.

I mean how could two work together

Except they agree?

You were like darkness,

illuminating my pain.

Killing every light I try to harness,

Stealing what could have been my gain.

I don't hate you,

In fact I wish you well.

But no words can make me the fool,

I became the moment i fell.

Hey guys,
 I know its been a minute ,and  I apologize.. been working on a lot of  stuff ..from time to time posts won't be as consistent as I would prefer  but purple notes is here to stay best believe that. 
   Anyway lets get to the post on ground now, NO WORDS .. again, I am not speaking to / about any one in particular. Its just something I wrote give or take , 2 years ago.. Everyone can relate to it , at least a majority of people. Some people claim to be too strong , or too tough, or impenetrable but I find that  LOVE always has a way of breaking down walls and bringing even the toughest of hearts to its very knees doesn't it? what I can say however is that, heart breaks are mostly inevitable. no matter how tough and calculated  a person might be, and it isn't always a sign of weakness. Some more than others actually learn from it, get out wiser and stronger, and others well, become enslaved  and fall prey to hunters from the past. Either ways, we can all relate to the piece. Purple notes wishes you all the best of luck in your marriages, and relationships... and to those who were once fools for love, cheers.. because once beaten , twice shy. when you find love again, you might not have the perfect  handout of what it should be like but at least you know what it shouldn't. some people have that lesson locked and loaded, and others prefer to learn it over and over.. either ways, again... purple notes wishes you good luck!  I am no expert at love, or relationships, but I know that happiness is around the corner, for every man who wishes it, and is willing to fight for it.

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS, GIVE US A THUMBS UP! LIKE, COMMENT, SHARE, SUBSCRIBE!

WITH ALL MY HEART,
PAMELA!

''All you have to do is wake up...''

I would love
 to make you breakfast,
and let the aroma
 awaken you to my lips,
waiting hungrily,
to usher you into a new day.
To run you a bath,
rub your feet,
make you feel good ,
in every single way.
all you have to do is wake up,
and i will take it from there.

It must be nice ,
to fall asleep every night ,
knowing your heart is mine,
and when the sun,
barges in on us,
I'll be up and ready,
to be at your beck and call,
to catch you when you fall .
i'll be your body guard,
so you would have nothing to fear,
all you have to do is wake up
and i will take it from there...

I would love to watch you sleep,
for what greater  beauty
could i see?
to put my heart at such peace,
and when you wake up with a yawn,
and that pretty smile ,
that fills my heart with warmth,
it would all be worth while...
and those soft little snores,
like music to my ears...
all you have to do is wake up ,
and i will take it from there.

I'll drive you to work,
or anywhere you need to go.
Listen when you need to talk,
and tell you all you want to know,
i'll put a smile on your face,
at every chance i get,
and when you start to feel cold,
i'll offer you my shirt,
as long as you dream it,
i'll make it a reality.
all you have to do is wake up,
and i will take it from there.

i will do whatever you want,
i will be whoever you need,
and if you have been  hurt,,
please let me  help you heal..
if your heart's been broken ,
i will help you fix it
and whenever you smile,
i will be the reason.
through your every struggle in life,
i will be there, no matter the season.
just promise me you'll wake up..
and i swear i'll take it from there.

When you don't wanna talk,
i'll hold you in the quiet.
i'll tell when something is wrong
no matter how hard you try to hide it.
i'll love you body mind and soul
i'll make your happiness, my goal.
when you need a shoulder to cry,
i'll be happy to lend you mine.
i'll make you laugh when you're in tears
till the last tear dries up.
all you have to do is wake up,
and i'll take it from there.

Hey guys,

I consider  the above poem my master piece for more reasons than one. I thought about doing a review on it but i think i would leave that to the critics. A lot of guys feel like women are the most difficult to handle and in some ways they are But I will throw you guys a quick life line... (thank me later) .. All you really need to win a woman's heart is one thing. THE RIGHT WORDS. put them together and you would have the most loyal confidant at your side!(provided you handle your business like a man should).. So I admit there is no perfect man, well obviously sisters, we are not perfect either , but  wouldn't it be awesome if there was? I was thinking to my self ''if I had the perfect man , what would I want to hear him say to me?'' and that'show I wrote this. Even though i'm trying to hold on to my optimism and Positivity, I gotta throw in a little logic and reality to that mix. I've yet to meet a man that's ready to say these words in all honesty and be ready to fulfill them but hey, dreaming is free of charge abi?. maybe one day this dream will become a reality but till then, no one can take them away from me, I'll just keep dreaming big.Ladies, damsels, QUEENS, ]I dare you to dream ...You never know!
  Always  Remember, there might not be a perfect man, but there's a man that's perfect for you! Made specially to suit you.. I call mine  BOAZ,( you might remember that name from the book of Ruth.)
p.s- dear future bae, hubby, my boaz,.. your wedding vows should better sound a little something like this ..if not you will hear lol...

if you like this, share comment, subscribe! keep hitting my inbox guys, i appreciate each and everyone of you!
 with all my heart,
      PAMELA.

I AM A KALON

THE BOYS WHO FOUGHT IN NAM

Passed hand to hand ,

the wishes, 

the dreams,

the hopes,

of an entire generation

an entire nation

sent to war,

a score,

of old men,

leading our boys

to die,

while we watched

in horror,

in pain

in grief,

the disbelief,

that we had to loose ,

so many of our boys,

their toys,

barely left behind,

their eyes,

so young,

so bright,

so full of hope

the fight

so long,

so sad,

the pain,

so bad,

the wounds

so deep,

until at last,

our young men sleep,

in their makers arms again

their names  carved,

in stone,

never to come home,

never to touch our tears

again...

lest we forget

lest we grow old,

our hearts must never

 be so cold.

we must not run and hide

we must remember them

the boys who died...

let it not be in vain,

let us not forget,

the pain,

the cries,

the agonies,

the braveries,

the heroes,

and the smiles,

that time, 

so long ago,

across so many miles

caught in a place so bright

so green

caught in a place 

just between

hope and lies

we must remember still,

the promise that,

we always will,

touch our hearts

while still,

we can,

remember,friends...

remember...

the boys who died,

who lived,

who cried

the boys who fought

in Nam.

hey guys,

I know this was a lengthy one but if you made it to the end congratulations! In this post i will be sharing a bit more about my self because i got a few requests! Moving on, i wish i could take the credit for that beautiful verse but naah.. i did not write that! Again..I DID NOT WRITE THAT! But it is however one of my favorite poems ever, I came across this poem in a novel i read years ago, "the cover page above" i lost that book, and i also lost my diary where i wrote this poem out (long story), but i never forgot it.. i searched forever for it on the internet and finally found it recently, sadly it was written by an  anonymous poet.. a father who had lost his child to war, and left to bury his  teenage son. He somehow found the perfect words to express every feeling he felt down to the last full stop and in all that grief managed to shine a ray of hope to all the other fathers going through the same thing and that's what poetry does!Gives a voice to even the deaf and dumb! So, I got some requests to share some more personal experiences and things about myself so here goes.. i'll try my best to answer all the questions i can as efficiently as possible.

 About my poetry, my gift , my blessing?. I think for the better part of two decades i've been in love with literature as a whole, in its various forms. I've written a hand full of short stories and a dozen more of poems, A lot of which i lost to stolen phones, torn up diaries, bad computers that needed flashing and what not.
The truth is people tend to pay little or no attention to poetry. We underestimate how powerful words are when properly constructed, and at a point i did too. At a point i thought of poetry as lame, i became too shy to profess my love for it, years passed by and loads of poems i wrote over the years were lost. Someone asked me to share my story and i thought why not?


I read my first book ''the sky is falling '' by Sidney Sheldon when i was in primary 5. I had no interest in it at the time but my sister made me read it because she wanted me to start working on  my vocabulary from a tender age, it took me forever to finish that book because it was really big with a very small font compared to what i was used to at that level. I read it anyway, and by the time i was done she gave me a couple more..and i kept reading.. by primary six , i had read a hand full then i had this little book where i write new words and their meanings, just like that i started making sentences with them and from those, i made verses which translated into poems. over time i joined various book clubs, and thus began my logolepsy. Someone also asked How do i do it? well , i would say its a bit of an aleatory situation because i find that i can't just sit anywhere and just write, its like a combination of factors coming together to create the perfect atmosphere and oddly, they come by quite often. My inspiration could be an experience i have had in the past, or that of someone close to me, a movie, a song, or just the perfect view, really its nature . Said sister also pushed me to open this blog, and at least share my gift with the world because frankly i kept dreaming of my poems being heard but i had no idea how to go about it, i just had pages and files of poems stacked up and rotting away.. so let me use this medium to thank my sis (u know urself boo).. cuz you really wouldn't be reading this if it weren't for her, and every single one of my siblings have been extremely supportive in my journey and it has only just begun. 
Over the years, I've been called a lot of names ranging from weird to crazy but i believe in poems,that's not gonna change. I am a kalon, poetry made me a kalon. Its my thing..i find that i am happiest with a pen, paper, and words..  as Jack kerouac said ''don't use the phone.People are never ready to answer it. Use poetry"
Kalon- a Beauty that is more than skin deep (n).

I hope you enjoyed reading this , be sure to subscribe, comment, and share

WITH ALL MY HEART,
PAMELA.