The Papi Affect

Snippet from book 2 (being written now)

He was tall, well past 6feet with eyes that told stories both good and bad. MMMM his arms damn they supported me in ways never have I experienced. He was a dream. He was my papi. Didn't feel right calling him daddy, hell I had one of those but he made me feel safe and secure so Papi was the next best thing to call him.

This man was fire and you know what they say about fire. Play with it at your own risk but be prepared because at some point you may become burned. Who knew 7 years later these very words would become my truths. But I couldn't help myself. He was that indulgence of pure decadence. That second piece of chocolate cake, that extra sugar in already overly sugared tea. A true treat filled with mixtures of trickery. And yet still I saw the signs and refused their offerings of truth. For I was in love. In love with a Wolf in Sheep's clothing.

Wedensday

Wednesday

By Missy Smith

The day

The day was Wednesday, sort of like today only without the bullshit from that Wednesday before

See love left her door long ago

Only she keeps trying to keep it open, if only slightly

For another has caught her eye

Well, kind of

But she knows she's caught his

She sees he's intrigued

But is she?

Are the wages of her past lover's sins too much to bear or better yet
overcome?

Are the damages inflicted from him of before too much to give him of now the time of day?

Is the light truly darkened from his mark he left upon her?

Pink nightshirt

curly hair

bare feet

endless thoughts

Wednesday,
Yea it would be wouldn't it?

Poetry is not dead! (POETRY)

POETRY
Poetry is not dead
by Missy Smith

This was brought to my attention by someone who stated they would love to read my book but that Poetry to them is not fascinating enough or thrilling enough. It angered me to no end. I began to realize that many feel Poetry is not urban or street enough for them. Many do not realize that Poetry is the expression of ones soul and that it takes the form of the one delivering it. Everything does not have to be urban/street to make it a bonafide hit in the media world. Poetry again is from the heart. Truths told in daring and creative ways. Poetry of today is sensual, daring, scintillating, free, reflective, expressive, bold. So no, Poetry is not dead!

Poetry is not dead
Nor is it sleeping
It is however being placed on back burners
Pushed aside for more urbanized (writings)
Because my words speak truths so paramount
You discredit my freeness of mouth,
As I ink these truths,
Layering my pages full of raw emotions
No, Poetry is not dead
Nor is it sleeping
It is however being placed on back burners
Pushed aside for more urbanized (writings)
Books that promote stories in which we do too
Only we tell ours in Poetic tones
So who are you to say our stories do not belong?
Who are you to brush our creativeness aside?
Who the hell are you to tell me Poetry is not worth it?
We are Reflectionists, Expressionists and Poets who are creative beyond belief
Who weave intricateness as no other
Depicting "Life’s" truths in ways that others can relate too
So do not tell me Poetry is dead
It is thriving like never before
Showcasing its brilliance throughout the minds of its deliverers
Ones who are chosen to deliver truths in this very form
POETRY!

Also do not forget to pick up your copy of my book Blueberry State of Mind, a collection of reflective truths to read more of my reflections.
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B005EGKDQG

Color Me, Reflection being featured in OW NEWS SEPT issue.

Hello everyone, well I am doing good today. Found out I will be one of the featured Poets in OW NEWS. I am very happy about this. I am being recognized for my reflections and I wish to give a huge shout out to Huniie the Expressionist (Hang Out 4 Artists) for singing my praises and to Oneal Walters, and his OW News. I am including my Reflection selected for the OW NEWS. Thanks and Creative Luv, Missy

Color Me

by Missy Smith

I am a shade of brown

rich and exquisite

though at times depending upon the seasons, I like them change

summer time at times brings a darker shade

though make no mistake my beauty still resonates exquisiteness

texturally magnificent

with a hint of fabulousness

ok, its more than a hint

but I am not one to brag

however, I shall

beautiful queen

smile lighting up rooms

spiritually uplifting spirits

Th e color of me is much more than one can truly know

Yes I am a shade of brown

but my spirit is the color of free

soaring through clouds

destination beyond

the edge of known reality

making my own reality

sprouting poetic truths like that of tree roots

deeply rooted, for you cannot uproot me

see I am here to stay

until the last of my breath my Father decides shall be no more

until my pen becomes inkless

and my pages become blank

and my mind no longer creatively reflecting

but until then I shall remain

a poetically fl owing bewitching shade of brown

Missy Smith

Born in Washington DC,

it has always been Missy’s

dream to have her words

read by all. In the midst

of her thirties she knew

it was time to fulfill that

dream and thus became

the birth of Blueberry

State of Mind a collection

of reflective truths.

Missy Smith was chosen

as one of the most talented

poets by Hang Out 4 Artists.

Inked Truths

Sometimes sitting in a nice warm relaxing bubble bath brings about much needed clarity. It doesn't have to be at night. I know mine wasn't. I simply found myself in this very type of clarity filled moment at 8:30 am. As usual I had my journal and pen handy as I found that the urge to just write hits me at any given moment. Here is my Inked Truth. Enjoy

INKED TRUTHS
 BY Missy Smith
 all rights reserved

The epitome of a dream at times becomes deferred
 Throughout one's senses comes silence
 Smells become obsolete
 Touches become non existent
 And the thrill of living becomes at times muted
 Betty Crocker never lived at my house so breakfast lunch and dinner was whatever that day the pantry had
 Sunday was the only day “True Cooking” took place
 Family gathering
Laughing, rejoicing
 But that was then and this is now
 30 odd years later and I wonder
 When did dysfunctionality become a part of me?
 Coerced into confusion
 Disillusioned by man's intrusions
 Into my private sanctuary
 Scurrying like scared rabbits
 Back into holes of dark
 Peeking out trying to catch breaks of day
 And I in the midst of it all sit patiently
 Inking my emotional truths

Life, True Story

Today, many people suffer the affects of an illness in silence. Many are too afraid to reach out for help. To be told I know what you're going through is not the best method especially if you do not truthfully know this persons plight. Cancer, Lupus, Depression, amongst other illnesses takes hold of many people's souls and at times many recover but during other times many succumb. So if you know someone who is suffering from an illness of any kind remember sympathy is not what we desire, but rather support and love is what we demand. This is dedicated to all my sisters and brothers who are struggling with an illness and need that reminder of the fight. Creative Luv, Missy.

True Story,

Life,
I stood in your sea of confusion
Questioning yet refusing the answers
I was lost
Drowning in misery only he could save me from
But, but, but
I initially did not want saving
Accepting my plight I regressed
Became depressed and
And
And
Gave up
Gave up on me, him, life,
I lost sight of the fight
The light
The light that many often spoke of I saw
And within that light I saw me courageously fighting
And roaring and soaring
To that place of found
And from that moment on I promised myself to always fight

Until the last of breath is no more.

Against the grain

I actually dreamt last nite that I was reciting this reflection to a room full of people seeking direction. It was so fascinating to see myself in that element even if it was only a dream. But dreams are the portals to truth and so I believe this dream was the calling of my destiny.

Against the grain
By Missy Smith
All rights reserved

Against the grain
... we take laws into our own hands
killing others for reasons of none
self protection understood
craziness not so
falling for the trap of long ago
when being men and women meant nothing
now hundreds of years later it stands for everything
and yet you allow yourself to fall for anything
destruction of self
abandonment of morals
disillusioned adding confusion
of who and what you truly are
instead of standing strong, fighting this
you choose once again to be puppets
following instead of leading
as tears fall and hearts continue bleeding
I scream wakeeeeeeeeeeeee uppppppppppp
please people, wake up.