Lyrics, poetry and art all meshed together

Wednesday, November 29, 2006








Well, i'm glad i'm not too late to express my Gratitude so here goes, drum roll please:

VERY GRATEFUL FOR:
1. Blogger friends who show so much love and support, too bad some of you are so far away :(
2. Writing, to have the ability to blaze the imagination with spicy, delicious words, words and more words
3. My family and friends who are all so thrilled for me, they make me feel like some kind of celebrity since the book is out, which is flattering but I'm just a simple Cali girl trying to be heard (hello? can you hear me now? Lol)
4. the digital camera I have at home that took those lovely pics of my cooking and the kitchen, by the way my kitchen is orange which is my favorite color and now that I learned how to download it's ON, i'm on a roll to finally show you guys my favorite things at mi casa and NY
5. To have the talent to cook, at home you'll find me in the kitchen or in my bedroom writing...I love to cook, the dish you see above is a vegeterian dish I made with Risotto rice and veggie patties which I seasoned with garlic, parsley, olive oil, orange juice, tomatoe paste and voila!! It's sooooooo yummy.
6. I must also say i'm grateful for Ignacio, my genuis friend who helped with resizing my pics...he is so talented, watch out for him out there in the graphic design world


I'm really not a meat person all the time and I can't stand the taste of chicken ever since I went vegetarian like 3 years ago. It was just last year that I started adding meat again to my diet, small portions of turkey and fish. Speaking of portions, check out the 32 pound turkeys my landlady made last week for Thanksgiving and she's Haitian so you know that turkey was slamming with flavor, and I helped her seasoned them, we tied up their legs with green ribbons, making them girly. I named them Cassandra and Melissa...Cassandra was fat but appealing to look at, that's why I took her picture :) Stay tuned for more pics.

Friday, November 24, 2006

Many Reasons to be Thankful


book: sold at Amazon.com


Hope you all enjoyed your Thanksgiving. I had an unexpected delivery via UPS two days ago which caused me to jump up and down like a little kid. My first poetry creation is officially born and is being sold on Amazon.com (www.Amazon.com) simply type the title of the book or my full name.

Honestly, as far as my writing is concerned, 2005 was not a great year for me but there was a light at the end of the tunnel which couldn’t be ignored. I decided to stay focus, submitting my poetry work to various online sites and eventually decided to self-publish my poems on my own.

The beauty of words is a powerful tool in getting others to visualize and feel your passion, also therapeutic in so many levels. I underestimated my abilities to achieve what is now the birth of a brand new baby.

My book, Wrapping Thoughts Beneath Emotive Rain is my first and certainly not my last. I’m working on another poetry book as we speak and on my 2nd novel. I’m very grateful to all you bloggers who have supported me here since I joined back in May. This is truly a reason and season to be thankful. Big thanks and I wish you all the best in achieving your dreams.

Sincerely,

Cathy Delaleu
www.delaleuwritings.com


The poem below is based on my own personal experience…December will make me six years in NY.

MO BETTER

Hollywood’s postcard is inside my backpack
I take it with me to Brooklyn’s mean streets
I don’t have enough to eat
$1200 will buy me a thick coat and boots
the blizzard is no joke
a beat-up couch leaves me sore all over
I beg grandpa for one more phone call
He charges me by the minute
Demands $250 if I want to rest
On his busted couch
I whine but I give him all I got
I shut my eyes
Imagine my poems lifting me like Peter Pan
My wings made of paper
are written verses created
Under my childhood bed
Grandpa walks by again
Senile with stale coffee in his breath
He wants more money
I grab my dreams
hang them on the walls and ceiling
gunshots are heard outside my window
Summer heat is unbearable
my brother is on the other side of the wall
using his turntable he whispers, Sis, better days are coming,
I hold on tight to the old couch
It soaks my tears
Still I keep my eyes shut
Years run quickly with my pen
Daughter already eight years old
She reads my future out loud with love in her eyes
California is history of the past
Little girl wants to see mommy happy
I swallow Crown Heights without chewing
Grandpa is left to rot on his bedpan
He can’t hear me say I’m grateful
I caress my brand new bed
In my brand new apartment
Where my thoughts wrap me at night
With much blessings
©11/2006 by Cathy Delaleu
www.delaleuwritings.com

Tuesday, November 21, 2006


ROMEO & JULIETTE TRACK 2006
Someone told him Juliette is hungry tonight
she hangs her wet panties and fishnets outside purposefully
Hopes her scent is what will bring him to her…
On a balcony she daydreams
Her bare soul exposed to darkness with the eye of the scarlet moon
Her wavy hair ruffles by the breeze
Whispers lust to the wind
Romeo is here
He watches quietly behind a pussywillow tree
Eyes lost in Juliette’s beauty
Escorting him to a disturbing fantasy
Looped with electrified drums and dreamlike bass
“Romeo?” Juliette calls out
she feels his movement
his musky vibe shoots a sensual ache in her loins
Romeo licks his lips
As the wind send him another whiff of Juliette’s g-string

“Where are thou Romeo?” her voice holds an undertone of sensuality
the ache lubricating vulgarity
Romeo’s manhood is a volcanic rock untamable
he emerges from hiding
a black pearl who walks tall and straight with Viking legs
he owns his name with each step
Speaks of grace and virility
Juliette sees him
Her anxious breath he captures with sugar-filled pleasure
He jumps over the balcony
they stare at each other
his weakness boldly fixated on her hard nipples
she hands him her underpants
he clamps his eyes shut
inhales deeply her fragrance
“I live for this and I will die for it,” he confess
Kneeling down with both hands squeezing her thighs
he praise this womanly passage with a kind mouth
Juliette leans lightly into Romeo
He moves his head back and forth
His tongue thrusting her pulsing clit
A feast like a downpour of warm honey in the corners of his mouth
She squirms while her drowning moans shapes million of stars into a poetic arc
Romeo loves the way she sings her profession of love
The way she shudders and jerks this uncontrollable joy
He gets up
Gives her a cruel ravishment of his mouth
She taste her delicious murmurs in his palate
A shivery kiss that silently cause them to cry in unison
this turbulent ending
On the balcony
©11/2006 by C.Delaleu

My love for romance started at a young age. I was only about 9 years old, living in Haiti. I recalled one old French movie in particular that caught my breath and had me daydreaming constantly of my prince charming. The movie Sisi L'imperatrice is the European version of Cinderella, there are four or five parts to Sisi's adventures. She grew up in the country with her parents and it so happens she meets the prince who falls in love with her. It is such a beautiful story. I haven't been able to purchase her movies here in the states since it's so hard to find and expensive. But thanks to Sisi and her prince I was introduced to my writing. Naturally I began writing my own fairy tales and selling my stories to kids in school. In exchange, kids would pay me with blank pieces of paper instead of money. To me that was worth much more. Tell me, what triggered your love of writing? Did it start out with a song you heard and ended with a movie? Was it an experience with family or friends? What do you love about writing? For me, I call it my feeding time. How often do I need to eat? Let's just say i'm not on a diet.




Thursday, November 16, 2006


WELCOME to my new home. I hope you all will be pleased with the change of scenery. I've only joined blogger in May 2006, not too long but it feels like i've been here forever. Perhaps the reason why it feels so comfortable is due to my blogger friends and also faithfully keeping up with a journal. I started writing on journals since 1986, I don't even know how many I have by now all I know is that my closet looks like a mini librairy. Well, if you'd like to browse at them I'll surely share some pages in here starting next week. When I sit and read some of my journals I laugh and sometimes cry...I do feel melancholy when looking back at the past. Most are hilarious and I wonder what the hell was I thinking or drinking, lol. Ok, if you want to check out each bedroom of my blog page, click on "Welcome and enjoy your stay" it will take you to my website which has my bio information and you can show me love by signing my guestbook. Slowly but surely i'm learning how to post new things, for example I still can't figure out how to post my favorite links, I've tried and tried so I'm not giving up cause' I have too many favorite poets and writers in here who I feel should be checked out. I will take the time to share with you more of my writing adventures (I've been avoiding to talk about it until my poetry book comes out).
Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think of my new page, as I mentioned before I will be adding more links for your enjoyment and some soothing music. Stay blessed.

PREDICTABLE
one kiss caused her to fumble
she stumbles into a little girl with muddy shoes
she’s in too deep with a crush
unable to wipe the sweat from her face
heat is unbearable when he walks away
she wants him to stay
to tuck her between his balls
until she ding dong herself to sleep
she yearns for a cardiac arrest absorbed by his manly scent
a concussion from his electricity leaves her agitated
she gets another round of contraction
Quickly closes her legs to control
The fall of rain
©11/2006 by C. Delaleu
picture by Laurelart.com

Thursday, November 09, 2006





IF
IF you really knew me
You would know tonight must come to an end
I fabricate wings handmade with twigs
30 inches off the ground
I hide my sins behind night bulb clouds
They glow like sugar sand marshmallows
I fly over birch trees
lean close and personal to hear their gossips
They bump me in a dusty dirt track
Question my global-trotting
I tell them everything down to the light switch flings
Sing my involvement with freedom
Flirt treasured heritage to some guests
I spell freedom with orgasmic explosion
Sleep at the epicenter of a soft cabana
Anchored by hypnotic sounds of water
I land on a ferry crowded with applauses
I go for a joyride to the next corner of the universe
It takes a while to realize
My sins will soon spread a message
They will conquer me with fear
I will plead to the spiritual forces
To give me another chance...
To fly
©11/2006 C. Delaleu

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

WELCOME...


To those fellow bloggers who have wondered who is the poetess behind the lyrical words…well, here I am. Miss Delaleuverses herself. I’m not good at displaying pictures of myself since I tend to be overcritical…which of course are my own insecurities. Slowly but surely I’ll come out of my shell.
I wanted to share my Gratitude Wednesday this evening, I won’t be available tomorrow to display my gratefulness so here goes:

GRATITUDE WEDNESDAY, 11/8/06
1. today, doze off to sleep for 20 minutes during an MRI exam without an anxiety attack and the nurse made me laugh
2. the heat in my apartment feels like summer in California (ahhhhhhh)
3. Being in a writers’ group with the coolest poets and writers who are like an extended family
4. Blogger friends who still drop by to visit my poetic world and I am grateful
5. my digital camera is FINALLY working and I’m ready to snap what I see as beauty in this fast-paced life
6. my cousin (pictured in black shirt) is my favorite “cousine”, I love her like I love upside-down cake
7. dreams getting sweeter whenever I write poetry before going to sleep
8. chirping sounds of birds outside my bedroom windows waking me up on the weekends
9. the aroma of rice and beans with chicken coming from my landlord’s apartment…ummmmmmmmmm, there’s nothing like Haitian food
10. the sound of my fingers making love to the keyboards on my laptop, that’s how poetry is created:


THOUGHTS AND PAPER
The earthy smell of water taste like altitude sickness
Down the coast a French film crew sits and watches
While I putter hands on your flesh
Leaving reminders of our reality show
I prowl on neck, chest and lips
You are afraid of the mass media
prefer privacy with morning brunches
You drive through San Fernando Valley
with a hungry appetite for summer
I prefer to wait for you
in an evening marketplace of silk, art and souvenirs
I pause with the ink of my pen
Space turns into black paper
Thoughts are left unspoken
©11/2006 by C. Delaleu

Sunday, November 05, 2006



SINGULAR voyage

You found a way to secure your spine through a telescope
Using hair extensions and semi-permanent eyelashes
To advertise your solitude
A desolate wind sings you prayers
Like the sound of a waterfall
You see the face of nuns beaming at the sight of your hanging breasts
Untouched
They glow like butter lamps
Shudder as men scatter compassionate verses on your back
Flocks of men cling on your golden monastery
They climb the highest mountain of Jacmel to gain social insight
The men pay attention to your sweet puddles
Your geological past is easy for them to sip
They slurp your Haitian continent in wine glasses
Toast their feet on withered hills
You move with your heart stuffed in sheepskin
You’re a wanderer with no sense of direction
Hoping the men will notice your face smooth with salted clouds
What they see is a girl encrusted on a hillside
With sunlight blinding her eyelashes
Close your eyes before their blades
Shatter your pure heart
©11/2006 by C. Delaleu

Wednesday, November 01, 2006



UNSEEN DANGER
My brothers are flattered that
Society remembers the last time
We picked cotton with our teeth
How easy it was to remove their tartar
words with a flossy smile
strict orders were given to them to dismember
our flesh prejudicedly
rightfully based on skin color
bath salt drip drops reminders on my locs
I’m the loctician who has definition of verses
An escapist who converse with the Devil
I question him under a cooch tent
eyeballing the menagerie he offers
to my people with bruised hands
their fresh taste of cum he swallows
secretively he smiles
using my breasts as doormat
pulling my palm tree locs while we tap dance
to the beat of flat tambours
his frozen semen he serves in honeyed tea
guitar strings he wraps around my throat
advising me to drink and be merry
the bittersweet taste is refreshing
yet I don’t forget he is the danger lurking behind my tears
my brothers and sisters blind copy their thoughts
to him
and he feeds them liberal dreams
with sleep disorders
openly he admits his global warming
fear heats out of my pores
nightmares are my only way out
©11/2006 by C. Delaleu


**Sometimes dreams offer us a preview of the future, i'm sure many have experienced deja vu's and most of the time it happens for a reason. Share your thoughts on dreams. Have you ever had one that comes to life?**

Well, I had one which today I still can't comprehend. I dreamed I was watching the news about a plane crashing in the water...the news mentioned JFK Jr. was inside the plane. So, when it happened the following week, I was seated in the living room and this time it wasn't a dream. So I knew the week before he died. I was horrified by the news, quickly I called my friends and family, this was a serious case of deja vu. My mother felt it was just a coincidence. I get them often and try to ignore those thoughts, try to shut them out. Often I hear writers have the strangest dreams because we use a lot of our creativity and imagination, we are always running with our dreams.