My Gratitude this week, i'll keep it short and brief, yeah, sure...

1. Stephen aka "Bougie", he is an awesome writer/poet/friend/supporter, check out his blog (http://bougieblackboy.blogspot.com). He is what you call "good quality" inside and out. His book "Bougie Black Boy" is an adventure ride he delivers in a collection of essays masterfully written with thought-provoking subject matters.

2. Pomegranate juice, a glass a day keeps the heart smiling and money-hungry doctors away. Did you know it reduces cholesterol and blood pressure? It's loaded with potassium, so if you're not in the mood to eat a banana, try a glass of this delicious juice. Thanks Mom :)

3. Book and poetry CD by Roger Bonair-Agard, he is slamming, I am loving his words, if you need inspiration he's the man for you

4. For lunch, whole wheat pasta and grilled chicken, very tasty, yummy for my tummy

5. Banana pudding (I had to throw something sweet in there), lol

6. My poems are published in the January issue of Flutter/Vintage Magazine


SCUFFLE

On the train
No one wants to give up their seats
No one wants to give up comfort
To be selfish is a treat
Created only in the East
In the East we eat rice and curry with our hands
It demonstrates pride
We boast about our dirty streets
Have you seen them?
Spits have dried our history
Winter’s last 60 degree weather was December 1804
Back then I was reincarnated
My name was Lady Katherine
I used to heal with my words
Turn ugly into humanly beautiful
I was the relationship doctor
my magical verses had people fall in love

I was a threat
Village people burned me at the stake
Made my children watch me die
They saw my charred flesh
Smell the roast of indigo
Of runaway slaves and boatpeople
They ate my flesh for good luck
Their children will grow smart
All left-handed and unafraid of East coast’s lies
I see them now
The kids are in bed
Waiting for me to tuck them in
they don’t want to give up their space
Their comfort
Their history
I repeat my story in their waxed ears
Listen to the birth of our culture
Listen to La valasse cry for pain
They cry
Laugh and shout in anger
Kids beg me again for another story
Slamming forks and knives on my back
Heaven knows how many I’ve accumulated
Tell me your story
Someone told me a woman’s lips feels better on Ayiti Peyi
My story is inspiration magnified by duty
Duty to rally the flag with prayers
Inspiration makes me stand
And I’m the only passenger on the train
Offering you my seat
© 2007 by C. Delaleu
Painting by Henry Pelissier

TI COCO’S GROOVE

I hear the end of the world is coming
But you and I won’t fade away
I bought us bosa nova dreams
they fell from our blazing skies
Our kiss creates a kombit mixtape
Somatic beats are earphones plugged to my belly
you touch the right spot with a black finger
Made for the bedroom
I become blue with desire

I hear the end of the world is coming
We’re not the ones they’re after
Our out of body prints they grab without asking
We hide in our tin roof sniffing shadows, crickets and rain
My legs hear your name, stretch out wide
Pretend we are invisible while I smile wider
Ti Coco is lush
Gives you 3 seconds of silence
You admire her gaze
It turns you blue
©2007 by C. Delaleu
Art work by Jean-Paul Setlak


Got this from Vesper…and was tempted to fill out the blanks

Fill in the blanks to each of these statements - it’s as simple as that! These don’t have to be one-word responses. Use as few or as many words as you need to fill each blank, in order to tell your story.

1. I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO SEEK material things; but I’ve always thought I might like to have enough to feed the many children in Haiti who are starving and dieing each day. I wish somehow my writing can help them.

2. WHEN I WAS 8 years old, I BELIEVED God gave me a wonderful purpose in life and it had nothing to do with playing with Ken and Barbie dolls, lol. I’m still writing, that’s the main purpose.

3. IF I WAS MY OWN BEST FRIEND, WHAT I WOULD ENJOY THE MOST ABOUT SPENDING TIME WITH ME would be the play of words I find in writing poetry and the different dishes I try out in the kitchen; while what I’d find the most irritating would be the constant rejections from agents about my manuscripts. Forty so far and 20 more to go, YEAH!

4. IF THE STORY OF MY LIFE UP TO THIS POINT WAS BEING PUBLISHED TOMORROW, IT WOULD BE TITLED: Island Sundressing and it would be dedicated to my daughter, sister, brother and bloggers. Delaleu's memoire about love, life and hope.

5. WHEN MY TIME ON EARTH IS OVER, AND THE PEOPLE WHO LOVED ME ARE REMEMBERING ME, IT WOULD PLEASE ME IF THEY SAID she was passionate, dedicated, generous and funny. She loved life and loved to be loved by others.

I'm curious to read other bloggers response to these questions, I have no idea how to tag so if you're willing to show me i'll be glad to hit your page.

Happy Friday everyone. This is my latest art work, acrylic on canvas. It was fun to do since I use a small sponge for the background. I need more practice, I'm not looking to be perfect only better at it. For those artists out there, what killer tips do you have for emerging artists when it comes to acrylic or oil. Well, what I've been doing is draw my work first on a canvas then paint, do you think that's a good idea? Do I need to sketch first or just paint? Your responses will be much appreciated. Have a great weekend.


NIGHT LIGHT

O yes bring back French music
Bring back Sunday dinners
Equipped with a maid at my tail
I want to be taken back to school
Sell stack of fairytales to hungry kids
They’ll eat using thirsty fingers
Love is my favorite subject
But teachers snicker
They don’t like my Happy Ending
I should have stayed in class
To start another chapter of playful words
Mom you should have left me there
I was comfortable with my head
On a stranger’s bosom
She used to look at the stars
Predict danger while a big white bird flew by
I miss the recipe of dreams
the collage of innocence
the dragonflies of hope
In America it’s not safe to catch
stars with a swollen tongue
© 1/2007 Cathy Delaleu

This poem is based on my childhood years in Haiti, I grew up there for 6 years without my mother. It was me, my sister and my brother. I remember the French musics my Tante and uncle used to play while we ate our Sunday dinner. We had a maid for everything: one maid cooked, one cleaned and took care of the garden and cars, one washed the clothes and took us to school. I recall one maid that used to tell us some wild stories at night. She always waited until the grown-ups were asleep to tell us small kids what to fear at night and one of her tales was about a human who would turn himself into a big white bird and he would fly over many homes looking for scared children to eat. With that story, she made us pray every night. You can almost hear the bird or "chouete" flying over the roof, he couldn't easily smell our fears cause' we hid under our beds with our prayers.

GRATITUDE WEDNESDAY:
I am grateful for...

1. The breath of life, the ability to wake up out of bed and feeling alive this New Year

2. My physical therapist, knees are getting better. I can't wait to get back to the gym

3. The new lamps in my bedroom are new gifts and I love them, they blend so well with my mood

4. I have a great boss, and she's a woman, lol. I used to think working for a woman sucks, well, i've had my share in the past but I've been blessed with this one

5. Lunch was salmon with vegetables, yummmmmmmy!

6. Thanks to Rethabile, discovering two talented poets : Makhosana and Kojo

7. Trains are a joy ride, I have a 40 minute commute in the morning, that's where gratitude comes in,I take advantage of it. I write, I read and read again.

I've been tagged by Rethabile, this is the first and hopefully not last:

Question one: Why do you write poetry (or literature) at all?

I've been writing since I was eight years old. I was always the one hiding under the bed with pen and paper while my sister played with dolls. I haven't stop ever since but I no longer hide under the bed :) Poetry keeps me at peace with myself. Helps me see the world a little better, a little softer and keeps me grounded. I'm very passionate about my writing, espcially poetry, it's impossible not to write.

Question two: What is your favourite poem? You know, the one you'd have loved to have written, the one by whose standard you base all other works of art. If your life depended on answering this question, what poem would you suggest to the person holding the knife to your throat?

I have so many from different poets, but one that really got me when I opened her book was Sonia Sanchez's Haiku piece:

i have carved your face
on my tongue and i speak you
in my off-key voice

And to the person holding the knife to my throat, I would suggest Miss Sanchez's Sonku piece:

when i die
i shall take
your smell
inside me

Question three: According to you, what is the state of poetry today? Is poetry flourishing or dying?

Poetry is surviving through all of us, whether you're a beginner or an elder. The use of language is definitely what many readers are thirsting for out there and we're the one responsible to show them how our creative minds work.


Question four: What kind of poetry (or literature) do you dislike, and would not consider buying?

I am not crazy about poems that rhymes, in the beginning I used to write them but now I avoid them. I love free verse.


Question five: Between the styles of Come (by Makhosana Xaba) and word speaks (by Kojo Baffoe) which do you prefer? Care to tell us why?

Wow, I read both of their work, they are unmistakeably fascinating. I am in awe with their language structure.

Question six: What was the last poetry book you bought?

I went to Barnes and Nobles just to browse and stumbled upon this delicate, small book entitled "Crush", by Richard Siken. It's a small book but the energy and imagery he offers are intriguing, each word jumps at you

Question seven: Where do you go for poetry on the web?

www.Poets.com, The Verbal Artist and The Next Big Writer. If there are others out there let me know :)

Question eight: Do you talk poetry (or literature) with friends and family? "Hi honey -- Hey, I read this incredible poem today..."

Yes, I often do with my family and friends, especially my sister. She's my best critic or maybe I should say worse, lol. she'll let me know if a poem is worth posting anywhere on the web or worth publishing on my next poetry book

Question nine: What one piece of advice would you give to a beginning poet (or writer in general)? One. What would you tell them to do or not to do?

I would suggest to any beginner to keep on writing and reading. The more you read, the more inspired you will feel. The urge, the fire is already there simply ignite it with more writing and reading.

Question ten: What line comes to you after the following two verses (in other words, please write the third verse -- these are spontaneous lines from me and are no part of any poem I'm writing or will be writing).

When the light from the lantern
beamed and fell upon the child,
he discovered a collection of pleasure
he danced at the sight of hope
placed the light under his pillow
the next day ate it for breakfast



SKIN DEEP

The TV screen shows his face
I place duct tape on the front door
In case he tries to break in

Clock tick-tocks 2 a.m.
I surfaced out of the warm bathtub without a robe
I hear the sound of feet on marble tiles
I hide inside the dark walk-in closet
“Who are you hiding from?” he asks
“I’m naked,” I say, “I’m naked with stretch marks”
He whispers in my ears, “I only see your beauty”
I locate his face with wet fingers
My shadow follows him out of the closet
He places me on a buffet table
Incites mayhem with implicit kisses on my breasts
Wine glasses and champagne splashes on the floor
Viciously we roll over
He identifies my weak spots with his bare hands
The quiet is broken with moonlight chanting
I tear open his shirt
Buttons spill over and over
There is no controversy
He keeps his tongue like a glorious leash of chocolate in my mouth
4:00 a.m.
He salutes my body with consistency
Stretch marks has disappeared in the night
©2007 BY CATHY DELALEU
Painting by Humberto Vinas Garcia

One more day and 2006 will be over. I wanted to share a couple more art work before we wave aurevoir and start the New Year with a blast.

I did the first painting during the week, it reminds me of the street vendors in Haiti, I love how the colors blended so well. I wanted both ladies to have different facial expressions.

The 2nd painting I did today, it wasn't easy. I got annoyed with her hair color, I tried to mix the yellow with another color but it wouldn't blend. I had to do some adjustments, I think it looks better as you can see on the second pic, more like a before and after. I feel the man needs more work, he looks tired, lol. That's the fun part of painting, you can go back, change the colors, the texture and feel of your work without any guilt. I wish it could be like this in real life.

If you had the ability to experience 2006 all over again, what would you change?



Some people see things as they are and say "Why."

I dream things that never were and say

"Why not."

-George Bernard Shaw

HAPPY FRIDAY!!

The last Friday of 2006 is here. What have I learned, lost or gained?
I'm not sure i've lost anything significant but most certainly I've gained knowledge, wisdom and met some fascinating friends. Here I am Miss Busy Bee at work. The first painting I call it "Prayer Girl", the second one was deleted since Blogger was acting up, I reposted and decided to name it "Thick Madame" thanks to Stephen's suggestion (thanks Mr. Bess. I completed these paintings last night, need to figure out how to use a better pencil that won't smudge the texture of the canvas so much. I know I haven't posted any poems lately, so for those of you missing them here you go. Have a wonderful weekend. Stay tuned for more poetry and art.



AMMUNITION backwards

Streets are covered in diamonds yet you complain
They’re not enough to take us back home
You mumble in Creole how you wish I were buried with the Negre Marron
In Hispaniola
Cause then you can gather more fame for your babies and children’s babies
I know my time will come
It will come like a Holiday episode laced with colors
I place hot peppers under my pillow
To ward off injustice
When I toss in bed
I see you haunting me like a narrative
You set rules for evil spirits to trampoline my ribcage on the back of an ambulance
A Negro is a man wrapped with indignity
But what about a woman?
How do I restrain your riot?
Perished is the road rage often miserable
Open pores pluralize my peace
I’ve made peace with your faults
I sit and watch the plenitude damaging your skull
Your stubbornness shines on your face
I’m not the one in need of glitter
I shine while you sleep
©2006 by Cathy Delaleu

Wishing you a joyous New Year, and make this new year your dream-come-true year.

This week is just flying over my head…I can’t believe another Gratitude Wednesday is already here. I’m not complaining at all, it’s good to know the year is ending and I’m welcoming 2007 with naked hands and feet. I look forward to new challenges; the positive ones are more than welcomed. Lately, I’ve been multi-tasking like an Energizer bunny between writing, organizing, prioritizing and painting, can’t seem to stop. Should I take a break? Naw, I’m having too much fun.

Drumroll please…rattatat tat:

Gratitude for:

1. PASSION…God instilled passion in all of us and we’re the ones who decide whether we’ll share it with others or not, I chose to share :o) it’s a beautiful thing when you share

2. LAUGHTER…My mother is a character, whenever we get on the phone she always seems to find a way to make me bubble with laughter, never a dull conversation with her

3. PIZZA, I was starving one night and wasn’t in the mood to cook, I ordered myself some pizza and it was heavenly…I forgot the taste of some good artery-clogged cheezzzy pizza. I love thin crust cheese or pepperoni. Yummmmmmmy! Diet will have to take a long pause

4. PAINTING…I took a long break over a year, got inspired to start over and I am enjoying it, I forgot though how expensive it could get when you purchase all these supplies. I did have a lot of leftover paint in my closet but some had to be re-stocked

5. CANVAS: I purchased new ones for my art and I can't wait to beautify them with delicate colors

6. PARIS: My blogger friend, Paris Parfait, for having the ability to take me to Paris whenever I stop by her world…seriously if you check out her blog you’ll be amazed at her European pictures. She has a great eye for photography; her treasured blog is worth browsing (http://parisparfait.typepad.com/)


As I reminisce, 2006 wasn’t such a bad year. I can recall days where I’ve felt lost about my writing but I’ve received great support from friends and family. I’ve gained knowledge, confidence, not to mention amazing friends here on Blogger. Also this month is my anniversary, being a resident of NYC for six years. I can’t believe it. Feels like yesterday when I experienced my first snowstorm…coming straight from sunny California, it was culture shock. I’ve adjusted quite well and even surprised my Cali friends, most thought I would have been back after six months. I proved them wrong. Yeah, I’m a New Yorker without the attitude, although I try to get the East coast accent right, lol.
Ahhhhhhhhh, furget about it.

**(art work by Henry Pelissier)

Hope everyone enjoyed their Holidays...Well, some of us had to drag our butt to work today, boohoo :( I am one of them. The train and bus were empty, I felt I was the only one in my city going to work. In my department it's a ghost town. I guess it's a good thing. Well, I'll let you all on what I did over the weekend. Miss Lyrically yours did some art work. I went back to my love of art and I'm sharing with you all my passion. Be honest,what do you think? so it's been a while since painted but once I started I couldn't stop. My cousin stopped by my place yesterday, she grabbed one of my paintings and took it home with her then had the nerve to ask me to paint her another one in a much bigger canvas, lol, the nerve.
In total I did 9 paintings using acrylic and I can't wait to do more. Share with me your passion besides writing of course :)

GRATITUDE WEDNESDAY

I’m backkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Great to be back, it felt like I’ve been gone forever. Only 7 days, 420 minutes, equaling 168 hours without my laptop or cell phone :0) I felt disconnected from the world, especially when I couldn’t use my cell since I left the charger at home. I know, it sounds like a nightmare but I think it was a blessing in disguise. I got a chance to focus on family. So here I was in Ohio, which is not at all Nueva York yet they get kudos for great restaurants and shopping stores. The time seems to drag over there, which gave me the opportunity to paint, I even created colorful, cute earrings (pictured above) and fell in love all over again with beads and colors. Also I had the pleasure of reading four poems from my book to an audience of women (my sister’s friends) and they all held their breath while I read some sensual verses. Many were swooning and blushing in their seats. I love to see people’s reaction when I read my work.

GRATITUDE WEDNESDAY: DRUM ROLL Please:

1. My one and only sister who has been a great support (pictured on top), she is so talented…I don’t think there’s nothing she can’t do, “can’t” is not in her vocabulary. She created the mask pictured here using black-eyed peas and earth tone colors, incredible! Check out her website: http://www.blackeyepeacreations.com/
2. Use of my knees, ahhhhhhhhhhh they feel much better, ice does do wonders
3. The network of writers I’ve met on Myspace and Blogger, can’t get enough of you guys
4. My new editor is way cool and I can’t wait for us to work together
5. Sleep…lol, I’m so tired and wiped out. Let me tell you, trying to promote a book is no easy task, I’m having fun doing it at the same time I’m lacking sleep. Calgon take me away!
6. I received some spiritual food over the weekend and it was well-digested
7. There's no place like home

ORGANICALLY MADE

He wishes she could stop staring at him
There is uneasiness in his eyes
This is not their first date
But never has she stared at him this long before

By now his lust for this woman cannot be intellectualized
He wants to hide his past from her
Camouflage those scars on his face with a veil
Or perhaps an exfoliation to get rid of those thin spaghetti lines on his cheeks
Reminders of his history
A map that interprets his love, pain and loneliness
The many times he’s been ignored, forgotten
Faded by a world obsessed with beauty

Her kind of beauty
He envies her
Envies what she possess
The ability to walk with her head held high without any stares or lies
This goddess with the raisin colored eyes
One glance at her and his heart cannot deny this yearning
He yearns her love
He feels that electricity
Like a shudder it heats every fiber
He wants to touch her but he’s afraid
Afraid she will run away like catchy cool breeze on a hot summer day
Then it would all be just an illusion
An agonizing day without any music, his conclusion
In her quiet way she stares some more
with soft fingers she touches
Taking a slow trip of this geographical face
She analyze
sees no imperfection
He is not contaminated
Not polluted
He is naturally beautiful
Organically made
©12/06 by Cathy Delaleu
www.delaleuwritings.com

I must say Seal is one of my favorite singers. His soothing voice, his demeanor is flawless, unspoken sometimes and his presence is felt when he's in a room. I dedicated this poem to him. I wrote it a while ago and i've been tempted to send it to him. Hope he likes :)

ROCK THE VOTE

We want to elect a bulletproof bodyguard to prevent our organs from
spilling
A strong Nephilim to look us straight in the eye
To throw tax-free at our feet
We try to collect as many ballots as we can
Yet we can’t seem to save the remaining survivors left behind in Iraq
NY still wears war on terror gold necklaces donated by the Bush
Administration
This morning a Democrat got off my bed with his gums bleeding
He said he’d make things better
By using his teeth as peanuts
Everyone will benefit to his empty promises
By ball-licking his vouchers
He will chew on our flesh to understand our plea for peace and security
I peek at the slightly open door
He is dining, laughing with his fellow Republicans
Sharing speeches they fornicated in Time Square with a group of porn
stars
I hide my opinions from congress by sleeping in the basement on piles
of
Sky-high gas prices
82,000 other women also join me in this fuel shower
We dry ourselves in student-loans and rental fees
While we wait for our men to come home
And cradle our children with a freedom lullaby
Petitions are glued on driveways with an evangelical message asking for
a
change
Sadly every soul is blinded by mankind’s ability to annihilate global
warming
Prayer tears shared between both electoral parties
Men in suits carrying money caskets on their head with children’s bodyparts
snatched by roadside bombings
Suicide bombers live among us
They breathe our oxygen
Ask one huge favor
GIVE THEM OUR VOTE
©12/2006 by C. Delaleu


painting by Joseph M. Njoroge

GRATITUDE WEDNESDAY: here we go, here we go, it's that time again, DRUM ROLL...

1. Change of season no matter how much I bitch about the cold I’m grateful for warm coats, fuzzy gloves, and thick boots, as long as they're cute

2. NYC men, men, men. Damn, they are so fine yet dangerous. I see a cutie on the train this morning checking me out but I didn’t have the nerve to say anything, of course with my poetry book in hand he noticed the cover…he smiled at me and that was enough to make my day. “Talented and beautiful,” he said. I did say thank you but I felt so embarrassed with all these eyes gawking at me so I didn’t continue a dialogue with him, my stop came and I had to get off the train.

2. Hair, yeah I’ll admit it, I’m the braider-type, although I’ve had my moment about cutting all of it off and immerse myself into Baduism, lol. I jumped on the train yesterday on my way to Harlem in the blistering cold for some hurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre, that’s one thing I’ll say is addicting to me, when hair is freshly made and washed with the scent of Herbal Essence

3. Family, without my mother I wouldn't have any idea about altternative medicine, if you need advice on Herbal medicine, Marie Carmel is the one to contact...she should have been a doctor. Sister is an artist, can’t wait to visit her this weekend, I’ll be taking some cool pics of her latest work to display to you all. Brother is a DJ, he is helping me with my poetry CD, yep Miss Spoken word will be spitting some verses on the mic, all I need is ONE mic, lol, ok I’m being silly

4. Writing, without it I can't breathe and with it I can starve. I could be dead broke with a can of soup in the pantry and $7 bucks in my bank account (shhhhhhhhhhhhh) and still can sing the blues with a pen and a smile. I am so well fed with my writing.

5. Yummmmmmmy taste of oatmeal, I love oatmeal with cinnamon and granola on top, I have it every morning for breakfast, keeps the cholesterol down and body temperature warm

LET THERE BE LIGHT

On Sunday morning Jesus woke me up with a scripture
Don’t scrub too hard you might see blood
I close my eyes to recreate his spirituality
Feet squeaked on his white tiles
Turns them to mud
Great-grand mother frown
Orders me to calm down
I sit on a small wooden chair
Kaki ties my thin strands with a red scarf
Cleans the make-up off my face
Use pencil-liner to underline my sadness
She says, Now you look too Haitian
She instructs me to sit on her plastic couch
My polyester dress shines like Tiffany’s breakfast
My menu is a Haitian-upbringing
I smell Kaki’s garlic breath miles away
Chose to disobey her
I venture off to Kenep Ville to watch the soccer game
Haiti is losing
Italy is winning again
English-speaking men beg me for a date
I tell them Jesus woke me up with a scripture
I don’t sex without his permission
©12/06 Cathy Delaleu
www.delaleuwritings.com
picture by Remy Seth Musindi

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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.