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Heaven Dances


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Open up the windows of heaven
Pour out your anointing on me
One touch from God’s hand
I’ll proclaim Jesus name out loud
With arms lifted high, and hands raised high,
I’ll dance like a carefree child
His love for me is beautiful like a mother who breastfeeds her newborn baby
I am new
His creation
I am in Christ Jesus
I am His child
Old things are passed away
He doesn’t look at my past anymore
It’s hidden and forgotten
Behold all things have become new
I am new
God made me  his child
I will dance for him
I am giddy and joyful
I will dance for him like David danced
Heaven Dances for me everyday

My Energy


 

Hello its been awhile since I posted something. I’ve been busy writing this summer. I’d like to share my poem, “My Energy.” I wrote this poem for the many women I work with to encourage them that they’re more than enough. It doesn’t matter what others are saying about them because they don’t know them anyway. The only thing that matters is their children and themselves.

My energy is  whimsical and curious2015-08-10 00.02.59

My energy is colorful……it allows me to see the world as a rainbow.

My energy is universal……I am free to love others and celebrate our differences.

My energy is soulful……I dance to my own beat of life.

My energy is powerful……I am getting stronger and stronger everyday.

My energy is passionate…..I feel deeply about my independence, life, and my children.

My energy is truth……no one will take it away from me.

My energy is faith…..I believe I can get up and keep moving forward.

My energy is life….I woke up this morning determined to win.

My energy is fire…..I  made it through bad situations and found me.

My energy is earth……I’m not afraid to listen to my inner self to find peace.

My energy is brilliant…..I am smart, intelligent and clever

I am all of these things and more.

Written and copyrighted by Janiese Williams-Wesley

Mama Grey


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Dear Lord

Take my hand

Lead me on

Give me courage to open these doors you’ve given me to do.

Help these women with children

You gave me this shelter of light to be a guide to those that are lost.

Except I need your help to run this place.

I got no children to help me run this place or children to live this Legacy to.

Buildings run down

roof about to fall on us

Love is the glue that’s holding this place together.

 

Mama Grey         ( a voice outside the office door)

Mama Grey

Laud see what I’m talking about.

 

Mama Grey (Young ladies voice outside)

Mother Grey

we need your help

Chloe’s water broke

Daphne and Linda are fussing over house chores.

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Cinnamon: Walmart Employee


Alarm clock going off

I got to get up

Darius

Coco

Yawl get up now

Get a move on

Mo ma can’t be late

It takes 2 hours

to get to work.

I swear I can’t wait

til income tax time

Mo ma gonna get a car (singing)

Laud yawl stop fool-in’ around

Who at that door?

Mr. Smith

What does he want?

Blah,

Blah,

Blah,

What? I got til this evening to pay rent.

Mr. Smith

I told you I’d have your money-IN FULL

tomorrow morning.

I gotta work a Double.

Oh alright, Mr. Smith! Alright

Good day, good day!

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The Bitter Women’s Chronicles Volume 1


A Choreopoem written by Janiese Wesley

Make sure you don’t start seeing yourself through the eyes of those who don’t value you. Know your worth even if they don’t. Author unknown

Bitter Women Chronicles: Volume 1 began the moment I went into Social Services four years ago.  One evening I grabbed a notebook and pen and wrote down the thoughts I heard in my head. The women I’d seen in my dreams became real every day women I worked with. Many come from different walks of life.As I jotted down my thoughts,  It didn’t matter how much education they had, if they had kids, were married, single, poor, rich, or middle class. What they all had in common was: They’re all women. My words flowed like rain on a cloudy cold day. In my line of work,  I see many wonderful women who are scared, lonely, uninformed and bitter.

Each woman told me their story, and I wrote it down. No, they aren’t real women, but the stories represent real women around this world.  Jasmine the Pole Dancer, and a Girl Anywhere in the USA were born in the journey of this work. These two poems starts the Bitter Women Chronicles: Volume 1. I’d like to mention that I first heard the phrase, “Choreopoem, ” from Ntozake Shange.  The author of, “For Colored Girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enough.” Thus, I decided to follow in her footsteps and create poems that come to life. I want the stories to jump off of the page into your souls just like they did mine. Each woman is apart of me.

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Jasmine: the Pole Dancer


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Pinteterst …..saved from shop.thedaedals.com

It was Summer

around 12 A.M.

Saturday morning

Loud music blaring

Horrid men standing outside of the Dark Hole craving some entertainment

I waited for Jasmine to show up

A young lady I prayed for everyday on the 210.

Shifting

I hummed, “Amazing Grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I’m found”

Hoping to talk with her before she danced, “the Devil’s Dance.”

 

Jasmine molested at age 10

raped by her brother’s friend at 12

danced around the pole at 14.

 

Men and women think she’s for sale

I will travail

They make her have sex

giving her drugs

just like she’s their object

polluted her mind/confused

She dances

Impecunious

She works every night

Dances/ the Devil’s Dance

Puppet master

moving the strings

limb by limb

raising one arm

then the other

Like a zombie

sou-less shell

moving to his jig

steppin’ to his direction.

2 A.M. 

Crowd of nasty men

coming out of the Dark Hole

Liquored up with Spirits

I prayed, “Lord touch there wicked souls

touch Jasmine….deliver her from evil trolls.

Save her from this sin

Don’t let the devil win

Give her victory from this trickery

Amen

 

 

A Girl Anywhere in the USA Volume 1


Picture created by Pinterest

A Choreopoem By Janiese Wesley

Dead Deniah

Worthless

no good

You just like Him

You’re never amount to anything

Nothing

Stupid

Idiot

Spitting out foul language

snorting crack

Grabbed the belt off of  one of her John’s pants

Wrapped it around my neck

choking me

Air left my body

Lifeless I laid there

wishing to die

I was just five

The word, “Him” became poison in my mom’s mouth

Infecting me /leaving it’s filthy residue on my heart.

As I grew older

I lost me somewhere between the sheets

I’m just saying, “I never was a little girl.”

It left me looking, wanting any man to fix the void in me.

Mommy let them have me

She’d get high in the other room

I’d scream ,”Mommy please help me!”

She’d yell back at me for not liking it

or distracting her from getting high

I thought, why won’t she look at me?

It’s crazy how she’d listen to BB King and get high at the same time.

Every night I laid awake thinking about, “Him.”

I wished he was here to protect me now

I never knew, “Him.” 

He left before I was potty broke.

Those men left their dirty stench on me

the smell will not pass

Who am I?

I’m no one

just a corpse / a crack heads daughter

My insides were given to the wild birds

I’m their prey

They ate me

I am nothing

Blackbird singing in the dead of the night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

 

It’s your time

Jasmine the Pole Dancer

 

Thank You


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Hello Happy New Years! I thank everyone who follows me on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Google+ and Tumbler. You guys are amazing, and without you I wouldn’t have lasted this long on WordPress.

I give a special Shout Out to writeshianwrites for commenting on the majority of my post. It makes me a better person to get feedback whether positive or negative. Thank you Ms. Nikki skies for commenting on two of my posts. Thank you everyone for your likes, and follows.

Thanks

Be Blessed