I Lettered Echo: delicate

I Lettered Echo: delicate: love stretches its fingers across the rising of the sun. desiring to plant itself inside a bundle of sweet peace rays. finding ...

Sweet Honey In The Rock- I Be Your Water

heard (for the sex trafficked beloved)

I heard her voice.

she sang a siren's story of fear filled

blistering oppression. ringing from the 

deepest valley, puncturing its sound

through the thick and unyielding darkness.

for her, I could do nothing of great measure or

importance. decided in its stead

 to bow down low to her tears and 

answer their call by catching the searing

grief upon the strength of mine own

bent back.

my hope, my desire was to allow her the

length of time called rest. I extended my hand.

palm up in openness. she caught ahold.

sighing languidly. as weariness seeped from her being

and sleep took notice of her soul. healing

her shatterings.

and she awakened to joy in the morning.

(Will you hear and respond to her call? Lift your hands and heart on behalf of the sex trafficked Beloved.)

the strength to love

i painted a dream. It kissed itself upon the sky. 
1095 moons and 1094 suns heralded its existence.

but on the curve of the arc one day

destiny twinkled and counterclockwised me. 

left me sitting upon a nod of once was disappeared inside the no longer.
life decided me. i slept  until my heart's eyes could part the river once more.

at a notion and 12 hours ago, the tick of the early dawn yawned opened.

I felt the yes now is nigh of long awaited recompense sit across my soul. 

took time, and it, and me, a lil while for us all to feel the heat of mutual comfort.

we had been not acquainting ourselves to the others in a long swim of time. 
the day slow burned the yes of us into one. on simmer in the ocean deep.

the moment sang so sweetly. low tuned and gentle in continuum.

leaving my soul to leak out the that which had been withheld
and yet now floating into the, it was you were, always meant to be.

the circled revolutions of my feet shimmered languidly into

the "yes it will be" of the red horizon. dot dot dot...

and the beat of my new day hushed my grief.

realizing me into the no walls truth of me.

i had never died. 

my passionate dream had just been on wait.

praying for a me to become the necessity of courage.

letters that could rule the terrain that dared to move 

under the power of my life steps.

i am the strength to love.


peace

By Regina Y. Evans But For You

Pondering....

....what I should write next. Picking up my pen. We shall see. Write. Right. Rightly me.....

#lovedmeright

u failed to dress your feet with courage and walk by my side. stood mid road as i spun out in a dirt deep ditch perfect God sent blistering storm. It left me at not. naught. I blueprinted my way thru those dark terrain-ed years. inch by inch. and with my healing pen. paper. poetic-ed me whole.

all the blue while you picked the journey of prudence. believing it easier to not align with one or t'other. it was never about either or. it was just about love. you failed. coward. you.

and yet, i still prayed for you. your life. to abound with goodness. your needs, desires. met without hesitation. i experienced spiritual hit after hit on your behalf. stood in the gap. so that the darkness wouldn't alight on you. it blasted me instead. increasing my own life hurricane. you never even considered that notion. i am sure. selfish.

i learned later, while looking back, that this is the mosaic of the strength of courage, faith and love. at its core. take a note and chew on it until it becomes honey on your tongue.

so now the sun speaks out its rays again upon the beauty of my heart. seem'd like you could smell the joy raising up. even from far afar. because there you were again. all of the sudden. in an instant. calling out to me.

the choice is now mine. and I choose me. my life, my passion, my giftings. you see - i have been loosed. into freedom. and i accepted the dance called life. in peace.

i don't hate. or despise. i just don't hold the desire to twirl you back inside my circle of love. you are a slinky. not the wonderful wonderful toy kind. but the kind that springs away in a leap to join with and in and around the sound of nasty tinged chorused voices spitting out in unity. against.

so no. dear (whatever, whomever, whereever) this part of my journey - the days filled with joy - you cannot join. no partaking.

you will have to peer over the horizon from afar. i will be there. am there. here! standing in the middle of fulfillment. twirled on my righted destiny. it was always meant to be. so, recognize.

i. am. healed by the love of the many.
blessed by the Eternal.

 #iamnolongeratwarwithlove

inspired by the song Battle Scars by Guy Sebastian and Lupe Fiasco

I Lettered Echo: I am (A Conversation): Poetry Excerpt

I Lettered Echo: I am (A Conversation): Poetry Excerpt: "He has been beautifully healing my heart, my spirit, my soul through grace and unfailing mercy i am changed by love and I am taking back my...

I Lettered Echo: my MY

I Lettered Echo: my MY: looked out the window this morning in joy wanting so much to soak in the rain's kisses have 'em drip upon my heart. needed the cool river ...

It is well with my soul....

It is in the quiet crucible of your personal private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born, and God's greatest gifts are given in compensation for what you have been through. It is well with my soul." Whintley Phipps

Just when you say it....

....is never going to happen Christ makes a way. Astounding. Writing. Echo. Your dreams somehow do come true. Through it all. My. My. My...... Thankful.....

Christy Nockels - Into the Glorious

"i was made for more than this world could offer me. my heart to hold true mystery. my voice was made to fall on holy ears. my life to collide with majesty. out of the ordinary. into extraordinary. this is a heart-cry from my life. to say i love you. God i love you...." C. Nockels

--------------------------------------

I love this song. Absolutely. Have a listen. With the ears of your heart.

Stay GOLD!

Vote for my video to win Tyler Perry's Talent Contest!!!!

You Can Vote to End Slavery! Victorie Cole, 19 years old Wouldn't it be nice if all you had to do was to vote to end trafficking. You know it's not that simple, but what you can do is vote to bring awareness to this stirring 2-minute film, and help create a greater tide of awareness. Here Women Talk member Regina (Reggie) Evans' short-short needs YOUR simple vote -- that's all -- just a two clicks of your mouse -- so Tyler Perry will recognize Regina's work and further the cause. (Details HERE) Regina Evans So please, click HERE, wait a few seconds for the video to load, and then click VOTE FOR THIS on the bottom-left corner of the video. Voting closes on Friday, June 29. Vote as often as you want. Your kids can vote, vote and vote while they watch TV. Let's make it happen. Thanks! Kay Here Women Talk is a safe place to listen and be heard. Our Social Radio Network is an open forum where NO topic is taboo. Here you'll find a blogzine where you can share your thoughts and find support with caring folks plus an eclectic mix of some of the best interactive, no-holds-barred internet talk radio anywhere. Listen and BE HEARD! Join us where we laugh, cry and grow --TOGETHER! Warmly, Kay Kay Van Hoesen Kay Van Hoesen Founder Here Women Talk Part of the Zeus Radio Network

poetry: god's playin' games with my heart again

i wrote this poem - more like a short story - a very long time ago.
well, as i always say, life is a journey. truly. stay gold. keep growing. do your thang. be YOU. most of all...be at peace. selah....

God’s Playin’ Games with My Heart, Again 

                                 I keep losing

It was 1am and I was restless.
So, I asked GOD if He wanted to play cards.
“Sure,” He said.
“But we are going to play with My deck.”
“Your deck, it is then!,” I responded.
We played 21.
He had me beat on the first go ’round.
“I won,” He stated plainly.
He looked at me. I looked at Him.
We both looked down at His winning hand.
There was something in His eyes.
“What is it GOD?,” I asked.
“21!,” He cried out!
“Hand over a piece of your heart.”
No longer one to quibble with GOD,
I gave it to Him.
Next, He wanted to roll the dice.
“My dice,” He said. “You go first.”
I rolled a two and a three.
He rolled 2 sevens.
2 sevens?? “GOD, how is that possible?,” I asked.
“Through Me ALL things are possible.”
“Of course!,” I chuckled.
“Hand over another piece,” He said gently.
“Gladly, GOD!,” was my reply.
Then, I said “Let’s play Monopoly!.”
“Ah yes, Monopoly! Now THERE’S a game!,”
He laughed.
I sat back, a bit anxious, excited even.

GOD seemed particularly calm and cool.
“HA! He thinks He’s gonna win…again!,”
I thought to myself. Well, alas, He ended up with EVERYTHING
that I owned AND all of my money.
This time He didn’t have to ask….
I handed to Him another piece of my
now rapidly disappearing heart.
I must admit, at this point I was gettin’ a bit weary.
These games were taking forever!
And they were never as easy as I thought
they were going to be. Somewhere at the halfway point, well,
there always seemed to be a “twist.”
I said, “GOD, are you tired yet?.”
He looked me dead square in the eyes and responded,
“No. And you aren’t either. You have MY strength.
Break out the Backgammon Board!!.”
So, I did.
“Now, THIS is really MY game!,” I smiled to myself.
Analytical. Complicated.
I was energized!
An hour later, my pieces were positioned
nicely on the board.
I WAS WINNING!
Well, there was one teensy weensy problem.
It was GOD’S turn to throw the dice.
AND one of my pieces remained
on GOD’S side!
Would He knock my piece out with ONE THROW?
Could He? (Silly question, I would surely realize later in life.)
I held my breath.
“Well, what could I do?,” I pondered.
Absolutely nothing. The dice were in GOD’S hands.
AMAZING! He landed on my last piece!
“How DOES He do that?,” I said, out loud and to no one in particu-
lar.

“Simple,” I thought to myself.
“His hand never fails!”
How extraordinarily simple.
It is the ONLY WAY with Him.
“Well, GOD,” I said, “Here’s another piece.”
I looked down at my heart’s resting place.
It was then that I realized that I had just given Him the last lil’ bit.
I thought that I saw Him smile.
I am sure of it.
He looked through my eyes and asked, “Are you worried?
Your heart is mine now, you know..”
“I know. And, no GOD, I’m not worried. You won fair and square. I
would
be happy for you to keep it forever,” I said. “Okay,” He said. “Time
to rest. I will wake you in the morning.
You have a BIG day ahead of you.”
“Really? What’s going to happen tomorrow, GOD?,” I asked.
He responded, “You will see. Just be content for now.
I have it all under control. It’s in MY hands.”
So was my heart.
I slept peacefully.
amen

from the poetry book nonnie and the butterfly by regina y. evans, copyright 2OO7, all rights reserved

Writing......

writing.....writing.....writing.....  until it echoes.

Echo Book/DocuFilm Backstory: A Slave Ship Named Echo

Sometimes as writers and poets we feel things before the reasons for the feelings become apparent to us. This morning I found out that there was a slave ship (from past day African American slavery) that was named Echo*. Echo. Echo. Echo. The same exact as my Play, now Book and DocuFilm. I had no idea. No idea that there was a slave ship named Echo. I am completely floored. But it gives me some awareness of why Echo lives within me so strongly as well as some awareness of the "force" of some of the poetry that has flowed from my fingers.

Please find below a poem that I wrote awhile ago. I wrote it after I felt that my voice was being oppressed by a Pastor. But what flowed out was much deeper than that. I didn't understand what I wrote. it seemed to not match the situation. Yes, I felt oppressed but what flowed out was much deeper. I understand it now. I believe that the words in this poem are ones that my ancestors would have understood. My own situation had caused me to brush up against the spirit of the oppressed and subjugated tears of my very own ancestors. And a flood of emotions broke forth. May we catch their tears in our hearts. Caress them. And blow them back with love. Selah.

(Note: You can read more about the slave ship Echo here: http://153.9.241.55/atlanticworld/digital/echomap.html)

as of yet

the stones were forced

to cry out for her,

because the terror unveiled out of

her mouth's mournful yell remains

unheard. even in all its intensity

it is stilled and silenced

by the tentacles

of cowardice and greed.

an unsavory combination.

she was cradled by the

rough waves which discarded her

upon these shores, spitting her out.

until stooped over stood. as best she could.

straddling the docks of "founded upon liberty"

and the "the truth of the matter" cat o nine tails

that ripped open her flesh with

the whip of degradation, the noose of rape.

she watched as her legacy was torn and shredded

from the depths of her history.

(their shame).

so, there she wait,

peering into the face of the darkest of evil,

which posed as light. but smelled of putrid.

body put on display for a

thruppence. pence.

a penny for your thoughts on it all,

her life run amok,

signed and sealed over

by inhumanity’s hand,

and the signature of subjugation

It knows her name

disposed of by all

*******************

(The poetry piece As Of Yet was featured in the San Francisco production of the Theater performance Echo: A Poetic Journey into Justice. It also appears in my third poetry book titled Nothing Cool About Ten. As Of Yet, U S Copyright 2010 Regina Y. Evans)

Echo, Book/DocuFilm Backstory: She Spoke

I am putting together a storyboard for my Book/DocuFilm Echo. I had a meeting last week with a really amazing filmmaker and his advice to me was to have something visual to show people as I am putting together my team. I thought that it was an amazing idea. I decided to do a picture storyboard with poetic words. I began my hunt.

Today I came across this picture of this slave women

(Source: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part1/1h308.html). I have seen it before but today it "hit" me in a new way. The vile muzzle device was used when slaves were accused of insubordination or eating more than their allotment of food. The device locked the mouth so tightly that the slave could not speak. 

How do we stop the growth of twisted roots of pervasive generational evil from bubbling up and sending out dark echos if we are not willing to confront the brutality of our past, grasp it, level it back into the blood soaked earth, listen compassionately to its blistered screams, acknowledge it in love, soothe it in unified sorrow and understanding, and restore it into the fullness of what it was ...always meant to be. so long ago. we cannot. its just that simple. problems die when the root is nor more. and the root of trafficking today greatly lies within the hidden sorrow of past day slavery. the notion of dealing with such a sorrow is for us all. all colors. all creeds. all races. we are connected. that is truth.

Sometimes Echo possesses me. When I see pictures like this I understand the force of the flow of the story of Echo even more. Past Day African American Slavery and Sex Trafficking/Human Trafficking (what we are experiencing now in our very own nation many decadesupondecades later) are a reflective mirror of one another. Think about it....long and hard. Greed, subjugation, family displacement, rape, brutalization, oppression. Different "plantation". Same evil brew. Same. Same.

Yes. Think. Selah....

And the souls of her eyes spoke: "Tell my story. tell. my. story." Let it be so.

****************************************

Echo: A Poetic Journey into Justice. The DocuFilm. Coming 2013 

 www.echopoeticjustice.com

Backstory: "Echo" Film Shoot and Lotus Flowers

today we are heading out for the film shoot. it seems like a very normal day. indeed. i went to bed last night not having a clue about how to shoot the ending. the rest i had a very clear picture sitting steadfast in my soul, heart and mind. I saw it all so clearly...except the ending. and this morning it "popped" in my head so i am pleased. i won't give any details of the road map for the film...except to say this: it is simple. everything about it is simple. nothing fancy. just the truth about the simplicity of hope. a small thing with a big impact.

and what of lotus flowers? they are lovely. simple. simply look:

Amenhotep: The peace of amen

looking for the not beigebland sameness but the same ness sort that holds hands with its neighbor and marvels at what is acknowledged in the reflection of mirrored eyes. you see me. i see you. though on a different mountain top, in an opposite riverflow or touching the sky from the seats of valleyway and valeeway .  i've been walking around the middlesides of a conundrum million crossroads of difference. i am left standing at the concentric center method of poetry. poetry is lovelife.



"The Great Hymn to the Aten is an ancient Egyptian hymn to the sun god Aten. It is attributed to Pharaoh Akhenaten, who attempted to convert Egypt to monotheism, with Aten being the only god. It was found, in its most complete form, in the tomb of Ay in the rock tombs at Amarna (ancient Akhet-Aten, the city Akhenaten founded). The hymn gives us a glimpse of the artistic outpouring of the Amarna period.

In his book Reflections on the Psalms, C.S. Lewis compared the Hymn to the Psalms of the Judaeo-Christian canon." (Wikipedia)

(Read about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Hymn_to_the_Aten)

How manifold it is, what thou hast made!

They are hidden from the face (of man).

O sole god, like whom there is no other!

Thou didst create the world according to thy desire,

Whilst thou wert alone: All men, cattle, and wild beasts,

Whatever is on earth, going upon (its) feet,

And what is on high, flying with its wings.

The countries of Syria and Nubia, the land of Egypt,

Thou settest every man in his place,

Thou suppliest their necessities:

Everyone has his food, and his time of life is reckoned.

Their tongues are separate in speech,

And their natures as well;

Their skins are distinguished,

As thou distinguishest the foreign peoples.

Thou makest a Nile in the underworld,

Thou bringest forth as thou desirest

To maintain the people (of Egypt)

According as thou madest them for thyself,

The lord of all of them, wearying (himself) with them,

The lord of every land, rising for them,

The Aton of the day, great of majesty.

(read more about Amenhotep here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amenhotep_IV)

je ne suis pas igual

i am not the same

and

neither is my blog

next phase

abounding

around the inbetween

and climbing down

the back

right into the center

change

me

enjoy!

Mother Wisdom

I had lunch with my Mom today (we do this weekly at our fav restaurants around town) and I asked her for her best advice and wisdom for someone like me who is going into management. She said:

"Well, being a good manager is sometimes the difference between being a hard task master and a fool. A hard task master will bring out the best in their workers and allow them to shine. They guide them into being the best that they can be. A hard task master is someone that will impart knowledge and train their workers...and let them "fly" even if it means that they will leave and go onto a better job. A hard task master want workers to be in a position that they have learned enough so that they can "fly" in their career and do an extraordinary job. They also are adept at making workers feel appreciated and a valued part of the team.

A fool will operate from the principle of black and white, they will take credit for their workers hard work, they don't help their workers to become stars, they will be angry and vindictive if their workers leave for greener pastures, they are selfish and want all the glory for themselves. In many ways they are just...silly. You see, a fool is just that...a fool."

And well...that was great advice. My Mom has a Doctorate in Education with an emphasis in Organizational Behavior. I thought her advice would be more, well, stilted. As I interpret her advice..it means that every human desires to feel wanted and needed. Appreciated. And a part of the team. It is each of our responsibility to help others shine. So that their giftings can be borne out. I loved her advice. My Mom has been a mentor to many successful individuals. As for me, I think that I will take her advice as I walk the management terrain.