did you hear about the rose

by Tupac Shakur

love is like a candle

infatuation is like a fire

instant, passion, flame

the bright, enticing light lures you in

but bids you stay away

captivating and tantalizing

jerking, jumping in a fury of pleasure

setting your soul ablaze

alluring, flashing before the eyes

it possesses a strange aura that captivates the mind

and tickles the senses

excitement whispers yet danger screams

starting as a kindle but leaving the remains of burnt tinder

floating ashes 

love is like a candle

embodied by mystery

a gift

slowly unwrapped

a candle with a flickering flame

gradually gaining light

textures of the wicker gently catching the flame

the beauty and grace of time

allowing the fire to gently ease in

slowly burning

the fragrance delicately infuses the air

tis the sweet scent of love

Verlaine & Karaoke

It's been ages since I blogged.
 one part laziness
 two parts No time

this has been the most challenging and life draining semester. Bags and dents have made a permanent residence on my face. I've aged in the past three months, and my brain cells have both increased and diminished.

but I'm finally back in the concrete jungle--for a few weeks at least.

Sad to say, I've been in hibernation ever since stepping out of LaGuardia. Yesterday was my first official day out.

Christmas shopping on 34th, Starbucks on 41st, a drink called 'Nina' on Ludlow at Verlaine, in preparation for the final destination FBPC in Greenwich village for a rousing of karaoke.

Dim lit, pool table, a waiter named Arthur, jovial crowd and Ryan as the host.

Needless to say, it was a great night. Although my vocal talent didn't get discovered, something else did. In the middle of singing my rendition of Diva, a dike proceeded to hit on me, and cornered me when I was left alone. If that wasn't enough as we were leaving she came over shadowing me with sad eyes asking, "are you leaving me". Hmm... Awkard. to say the least.

We met some friendly Brits and cleared the karaoke bar. The train station was full of pounding, African beats from a drummer. With bangles on my wrist and a carefree attitude by the end of the night, I let my hands take me away into a comical interpretative dance on the Subway platform. My friend feeling THE most friendly that night led out in a round of applause for the gentleman on the drums then slid her way into the center with drumsticks in hand, and began her own medley of beats. This led to claps on the platform and smiles echoed from the once dull faces droning the subway.

We made it on the train where two Arabs initiated a conversation with us with the iPhone as the central theme. Meanwhile, the most adorable Spanish guy offered his headphones to us after we smilingly imposed asking which song he was listening to.

As if there weren't enough social vibes protruding the air, we ran into a coworker of my brother's who accompanied us for the remainder of the trip home.

Sigh, we'd finally made it.

Tired, with an appointment only a few hours away in the morning, I closed my eyes. Yet another night in the city bubbling with spontaneity.

desire

my desire is fixed
but my feelings are fluctuating
i desire inspiration
yet my grasp is gently fading

attraction, so fickle
is a whirling tool that inspires
yet wealth lies in wisdom
and knowledge alludes to power

every wisp of intellect
that spills from your words
yanks at my heartstring
its delightfully absurd

and to entertain this exchange
of ideas and thoughts through words
is to abstain from the vanity
that the physical observes

Intellect precisely quenches this desire
sweet truffles of knowledge
and delicacies to inquire

Your mind crowned with knowledge
surpasses your years
a halo of intellect
words empowering like prayers

Written for Three Word Wednesday

thought

why do we wait until we lose the ones we love, through the pain of death, to say how much they mean to us. Tell those you love how special they are to you now.

War

the land of liberty has become captive
my heart cries
for the many men who've given their precious lives

tender in age, in the prime of their youth
succumbing to the hatred, violence of men
victims of war, and morbid abuse

ended ambitions, cramped dreams
tears stream

I cry
you may ask why, they're mere strangers it seems
but deep within thrives a spirit of unity
 in the land that we share
they're more like brothers, lost away
lives given, lives taken
hopes forsaken
please, let us end this war


Written for: Three Word Wednesday
© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton

a magnificent void

there's a magnificent void where passion once thrived

now futile, sweet words 

keep her soul alive

naively, she frolics in the palm of his hand

as he abuses her vulnerability 

but she won't understand

withered and unreturned, her desire has grown cold

the magnificent void

painfully cramps her soul

but to choose hatred

would only hurt her more

so she holds steadfast to the love

the passion once bore

Written for Three Word Wednesday

© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton

chic & The City

@ the Wendy Williams Show

A Little Bit of Wendy

This show included the topic of 11-year old Broadway starlet Shannon. She recently landed the position as Nala on Broadway's Lion King, but her career was brought to a pause due to her sickness. Shannon needs a Bone Marrow transplant. To get swabbed and become a donor, visit http://www.dkmsamericas.org/

Shannon

reminiscing

reminiscing is a drug
a temporary high
brewed with the bittersweet taste of goodbyes

--Alana Brereton

a good read

I'd always been curious about Liz Gilbert's Eat Pray Love. The three words are the essence of my dreams. I consider myself a foodie, I believe in the communion of prayer, and delight in the sensation of love. So this book caught my eye years ago when it first made its debut. 


Recently, while watching trailers in a movie theater I saw that the movie to the book was soon to  come out. So I got the book and finished with satisfaction. 


When time allows, join the journey with Liz Gilbert as she devotes a year of her life to self-restoration through the pleasure of eating, power of prayer, and the mending of love.




"Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it."
— Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia)

a fiery path

rampantly, the fire devoured every item in its path

ferociously fleeting the fire extinguisher

its raced yards then some meters

singeing the sentimental paths

simultaneously, the flames lit every beat in his heart

desperately seeking the fire extinguisher

he gasped for air

as smoke and soot rushed inward to his lungs

mystically, the firemen appeared racing in threes and fours

skillfully conquering the fire

they yanked the man 

leading him away from its fiery path

Written for: Magpie Tales
© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton

NP

i can do anything good

I NEEDED THIS!

ode to France

Nostalgia leaves a bittersweet beat to your heart. I left France just about two months ago and today the memory of it hit me hard.

Here's a little ode to mon cherie France.

ironically, today is France's independence day as well. Vive la France!

on marriage

I usually don't speak about these things. Everyone else has already done it, and I'm no champion on the subject so I usually stay away, but for now I'll share my experience on marriage


I went to a wedding in Atlanta this past weekend. Weddings are spilling with the gushiness of romance and all the beauties of love. It's the starting point to a lifetime of forever for better or worse; two separate hearts join to become one. While weddings are, or should be pure bliss, later on marriages may falter and many do not last. One beauty about this particular wedding was the emphasis on God as the core of the marriage to bind and seal the union of the couple.

The priest performed the vows then broke into song. "Jesus you're the Center of My Joy" echoed from his lips, filling the small Georgian chapel. In the last verses, he replaced "my" with "their", singing "Jesus you're the Center of their joy".

At the reception, the MC brought the point home once again. She voiced that with a solid vertical relationship with God, you can rest assured that the horizontal relationship of marriage will blossom. She gestured with her hands, the symbolism of the two which formed a lovely cross (†).


For now, the basics on entering a good marriage :)

the newlyweds ♥

chic & The City

1st Saturday @ Brooklyn Museum

water display, beautiful

first one guy, then couples, then friends in three. Running through the water :)

I wish I took more pics this night, it was nice. Next time, we'll make sure to get to the exhibits!

Me

He wooed me to his chair, a tattered folding frame
I'd never done this or
could even imagine I'd ever be sitting there
he began
it was Sunday, clear skies and mellow breeze wafting in the air
with a graphite pencil in hand he etched a few strokes
then like a mad scientist
began to scribble away
Sunday scribblings, the irony aroused a smirk on my face
and with that, he etched in a crooked smile on my now forming face
in five minutes flat the caricature was done
"here", he placed it in my hands
"This is not me!" my racing eyes shrieked
My friend standing by disagreed, indeed it was
the exaggerated forehead; i think a lot, quite more than normal
the glossy bright eyes; my wandering eyes always lingering on an object too long
the crooked smirk; my facial expressions are quite a sight
they were all me
indeed, he had accurately drawn me
enlarged forehead and all
i looked at my caricature
like a reflection in the mirror
and truly saw me


© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton
Written for Sunday Scribblings

Be Intentional

 change is inevitable. growth is optional.

How do you chose to grow today?

Spiritually
Healthily
Emotionally
Physically
Socially
Mentally
Educationally

Think, GO, Be Intentional.

haiku

crackling explosions

mimic my heartbeat for you

like firecrackers

© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton
Written for Magpie Tales

on repeat

chic & The City

the girls

later that Night.

red velvet birthday cake, delish

all lit up

Please don't speak

Sorry,
but
sometimes I get lost in your rich baritone
rumbling a wealth of words
that so effortlessly
injects this sick heart
with flutters and medicinal love
inflaming this never-ending hassle
between mind and heart
So next time,
please don't speak

© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton
Written for Three Word Wednesday

deception

fox
rather sly
trickling delicious words into my ears
with the love you imply

naively,
I lay aside reason 
as you feign virtue 
feeding me sugar crusted lies


© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton
Written for: Three Word Wednesday

new addition to the family

innocent&sweet. I wouldn't mind being a baby again

chic & The City

Live Band @ Union Square

Tilda Swinton @ Henri Bendel on 5th Ave, premiering her new fragrance 'Like This'

Refreshing with a twist of ginger.

http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2010/06/tilda_swintons_new_perfume_sme.html

and I loved the display

next, we landed @ the Puma Soccer party in Soho

for drinks and appetizers

and finished off the day with banana & nutella crêpes
 @ Bee's Cafe in Greenwich Village

nice atmosphere, great crêpes

She left them behind
the memories of passion
a blissful rendezvous
her eyes raced across the blood spotted knife
that began the heartache
and ended his life
a broken plate, the one they shared the night before
mirroring fragments of her broken heart
she loved him
now he lay a breathless corpse
her soul frailly mending from the wounds of pain
as she forgave the man who took her lover's life

© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton
Written for: Magpie Tales

Winding Sentiments

Dancing in a medley of emotions
my mind rides a roller coaster of feelings
stopping ever so often to linger
on the winding sentiments
frolicking across a vivid meadow of memories
encountering traces of a past too dear to erase

© 2010 by R. Alana Brereton
Written for: Three Word Wednesday

Photo Credit: Emotional Roller coaster

Love: Photo Impression

Tingling hairs waved down my arm
As his fingertips inched on my skin
Thousands of tiny electric shocks
Moving with the sound of my pounding heart
Beating like African drums
to the chant of a Nigerian tribe

"I Love You"
the words danced in the air
Reaching my ears daintily
In that moment, our souls became as one
the world froze
And everything was perfect

 © 2010 by R. Alana Brereton

The Best Things in Life Aren't Free

I found about this too good to be true free concert at South Street Seaport on June 15th from 6-9PM. For some reason I had in my head that it started at 5. So I rushed my brother and myself to the city, and by 5:22 we were making our way to an already large crowd of Drake fans.

By 5:23 I was irritated. The sun was  burning, there was no room to see, and the hundreds of surrounding teens were unbearable. But we stayed, only hoping for a turnaround.

By 5:46 we had inched close enough to get a peek of the stage through various means of tippy-toeing.

The crowd was growing bigger, the space tighter and there was not a single security guard in sight. I thought I had spotted a police officer earlier, who had now disappeared. Smart move on his behalf.

Around this time, two boys took it at their liberty to climb the roof of a kiosk to get a better view. With only a moment to bask in their genius, they were yelled at by surrounding fans to come down. Ninjasonik, now on the stage proceeded to grab the mic and scream profanities in an effort to calm the crowd. Twisted.

Moments later, two guys looking fresh out of Jersey Shore climbed the same kiosk roof, this time putting on a performance--fist pumps, pelvis thrust and all. They got some laughs, even a few cheers from the crowd who had been eagerly anticipating some form of entertainment for the past hour.

Two guys turned into five, then ten, then girls with mini skirts and cut-off shorts flashing the crowd ever so colorfully in their attempts to mount the kiosk.

One kiosk turned into two, then like monkeys people began climbing and leaping to get on top of kiosks. Too late into the game, stage crew become concerned. A stage personnel identical to Elmer Fudd attempted to calm the now amped crowd. His pleas were met with yells and frequent "STFUs"

That's when the plastic bottles began to fly in the air; pelted in all directions. First by the crowd below, in attempt to get their fellow primates off the kiosk roof. Then water, and finally a large cup of orange soda. This was followed by pushing and periodic crowd fights. At this time I was more than ready to go, and contemplating how I would get through the mob. (Luckily, the bottle throwing did not reach our section, and the fights were not directly in front of me) But still, the situation was only getting worse.

Even then, I thought maybe Drake would come out by now. Interrupting my thoughts came the foul smell of smoke. Just about everyone surrounding me began to light up cigarettes, blunts, and all the works. This time I was really o u t.

My brother and I cleaved a path through the reek of B.O. and bodies, and alas made our way to the streets. We opted to walk the Brooklyn Bridge home with a few friends and scram from the growing chaos of Drake fans.

Finally, a smart move.

While walking on the Brooklyn Bridge we saw a view of the Seaport; Colors and specks of people. Ambulances were rushing to the scene. I knew someone had gotten injured but my brother assured me that it was only protocol for the ambulance to be on standby.

False.

The next morning, I was informed by the News of a riot that broke out at South Street Seaport, canceling the concert only moments after we decided to leave.

Reminding me ever so gracefully that the best things in life aren't free.

People mounted on the kiosk. Notice the girl in shorts (far left) being pulled up.

                                  Our lovely view

               The first to climb the kiosk

News Article: http://blogs.villagevoice.com/music/archives/2010/06/riot_at_south_s.php

5 AM

Couldn't sleep, so I wrote a poem :)

There's a soothing peace about this hour

creeping towards 5 AM

the birds chant their songs ever so rhythmically

the sky is different now

not hovering over the earth as in the day

or like a darkened abyss as in the night

now, it possesses a warming tranquility

shades of salmon streaming through powder blue seas
with inviting sapphire eyes

it serenely watches over those who dare wake at this hour

carrying with it a calm air

the breeze seduces me

as it gently drifts through my windowsill

I am at peace

Superhero

Swoosh! His arms swooped around me

Mounting my body on a shoulder of Rock

With legs dangling in the thin air

I looked at the ground below

e v a n e s c e n t, vanishing

getting smaller and smaller and smaller

Until it no longer appeared

The burning city below me

was lackluster when compared

to the brilliant city before me

where I had now become an heir

Illustrious streets of gold 

resting under gates of pearls

incandescently I rested my head 

on my Super hero's robe

Copyright 2010 by R. Alana Brereton
word prompt: Superhero
Written for: Sunday Scribblings

Sex Trafficking: Fashion Gives Back Event

Two words that elicit a range of emotions: anger, pain, sympathy to name a few. But when we hear the words 'sex-trafficking' we tend to attach the words to foreign countries, never linking it to home. Sex trafficking is not something alien to the United States. While it is prevalent overseas, it remains an issue that exists in and affects America. Recent news reports that domestic child sex-trafficking is growing in the U.S. Children are increasingly becoming victims to pimps for whatever desperate reasons, and are ultimately left in a state of psychological and many times physical damage.

The Stats:

• 300,000 American kids are at risk for trafficking into the sex industry. (U.S. Dept of State)iii 
• There have been an estimated 100,000 to 150,000 sex slaves in the U.S. since 2001. 

Fashion gives back is a fashion show event to raise awareness about the rise of sex-trafficking in America and its urgency. The funds will help fight sex-trafficking of minors in the U.S.

Check it Out:

http://www.historystartsnow.org/

Get your tickets NOW!

The Facts:

"Sex trafficking is a modern-day form of slavery in which a commercial sex act is induced by force, fraud, or coercion, or in which the person induced to perform such an act is under the age of 18 years. Enactment of the Trafficking Victims Protection Act of 2000 (TVPA) made sex trafficking a serious violation of Federal law. Sex traffickers use a variety of methods to “condition” their victims including starvation, confinement, beatings, physical abuse, rape, gang rape, threats of violence to the victims and the victims’ families, forced drug use and the threat of shaming their victims by revealing their 

activities to their family and their families’ friends"

Taken from: http://www.acf.hhs.gov/trafficking/about/fact_sex.pdf 

21

Out on the Street...after a fun 21st celebration

What makes me a woman.

A poem my lovely mommy sent to me :)

What makes me weak? My fears.

What makes me whole? My God.

What keeps me standing? My faith.

What makes me compassionate? My selflessness.

What makes me honest? My integrity.

What sustains my mind? My quest for knowledge.

What teaches me all lessons? My mistakes.

What lift's my head high? My pride, not arrogance.

What if I can't go on? Not an option.

What makes me victorious? My courage to climb.

What makes me competent? My confidence .

What makes me sensual? My insatiable essence.

What makes me beautiful? My everything.

What makes me a woman? My heart .

Who says I need love? I do.

What empowers me? My God & Me.

Who am I? I AM A PROUD STRONG WOMAN!


Keep this going ladies.

Buy, Sell, Trade.

There they are, the piles and bags of clothes that you promised yourself you would wear. That top, those jeans, and the pairs of cute Steve Maddens that are just an inch too small. They've been sitting there for months, years even...In life, there comes a time when you need to smarten up and get rid of them!


Whether you choose to hand them down to a friend or donate them to the Salvation Army, let them go.
For the frugal and pennywise, there are alternatives to dumping your gently worn but outdated clothes.


Sell them.

I recently sold some clothes yesterday, and I plan to sell some more. Try it out.
Buffalo Exchange allows you to buy, sell, or trade. While they aren't extremely picky, the majority of clothes they accept are vintage.


http://www.buffaloexchange.com/

Think. Act. Be.

The mind is a powerful tool. Through it we can either edify our being and build ourselves up. Or, through negativity we can physically, emotionally, and mentally destroy ourselves. While the saying "Be Positive" is tons easier than actually being positive, the action begins with our thoughts. 


Thinking positive enables us to Act positively, and ultimately Become a positive person.


Think Positive. Act Positive. Be Positive.



Taken from: BeyondTheQuoteVideos

Shot

Photography by: Sam Estrella.
Check her out http://www.auroraphotography.webs.com/

#NP

I'm not twitter savy, but I do have a stale twitter account. Stale because its been there for over a year and for the most part #untouched.
The whole stalker vibe and "following" of twitter never grew on me. The idea of following every minute, minor occurrence in someone's day is kinda on the creeper side to me. Especially when these someones are not celebrities. But, I didn't come on here to rant about twitter. It's clearly 2:38 AM in NY and I'm awake, mildly insomniac like of me.


I have so much on my mind, from all angles and cracks of life that I'll leave unsaid.


Back to the point of this post. The title #NP refers to a tweet that I recently learned. It means Now Playing. In my mind, now playing are various shades of Lauryn Hill "Tell me who i have to be to get some reciprocity" from the song Ex-Factor.


Right now, I can relate.
#NP Ex-Factor by Lauryn Hill