POETRY CONTEST: stay tuned...this week I will posting the rules for this contest and the winner will receive a free art from yours truly.

**UNSENTIMENTAL VALUE

A psychic once told her
That she’s a 7th Daydreamer
With promiscuous tendencies
Taught by the only man who molested her
At eight years old
She was grass-fed with lack of trust
Only learned to keep quiet eyes and legs to herself
In order to fool thuggish men who throw lies
Based on hormonal changes
They heard all the way from Port-au-Prince
To Harlem that she has the best black beans in town
And her fish will make them powerful
They assume she’ll make them lighthearted
With her innocent smile
Unaware that her grind is a cruel whip
Of salt and vinegar
I don’t love easy, she yells at them
Her kisses confuse their heart
With a tale of stale wine
She marches without solace
And chews on trauma until numbness
Reach over with tear dust
Hushing her to sleep
Their cock prayers wraps around her
as nutritional facts of life
Her bodega is sterling gold used as a doorknob
To cover her surface with their rainstorm
She carries her verbiage as mainstream
Unsentimentally she values some raunchy opinions
©2008 by Cathy Delaleu

Hello Blog World

I know I've been missing in action, but it's been crazy busy for me. I'm getting ready for my art show on 12/13, two weeks away. I'm excited since this will be my first art show in Arizona. So, if any of you live in the area, please let me know know and I will gladly send you an invitation or if you know any friends who might be interested in purchasing. The paintings on top are my latest ones, perfect holiday gifts, right? hint, hint, lol.

Well, regardless, enjoy the poetry and have a great weekend. Ta ta for now.

These are my latest work...I was finally inspired to create them, it didn't take long, perhaps four hours.





Forget about canned food, this is the season for some good organic, hearty soup. I was able to make my own fresh spices to give it a kick, this below was the result,it took me less than 30 minutes to prepare. When you keep it simple, that's when it taste the best...

The ingredients were:

carrots
onions
cilantro
turkey pieces
chicken stock (low sodium)
basil
spinach
parsley
lemon juice
chilli powder



The sunset is your skin...
I drink in the warmness using archived lips
My journal you open with bruised eyes
Trace my dreams and hope with pastels
You are the sweetest colors I want to lick forever
On a plate I will savor you with my fingers
© Cathy Delaleu 11/2008

HOPELESS ROMANTIC
Love is the tip of his tongue
She knows he holds no truth to his words
Eyes disconnected from his heart
Swears he has seen the light
Thanks to her see-through dress
He sniffs her locs like vodka
Enchanted by her biography
Her footsteps causes thunder
Thunder turns to lighting
Lightning turns to lust
She gets on both knees
Eats his dark earth
Swallows his cum
Closes her eyes
Prays he is the one who will hold them together
She can finally paste her dreams in magazines
Sing this new tune dedicated to men
For this is their world
She waits with patience
When the pressure diminish between her thighs
She prays for more tenderness
Shivers his name like raindrops on martini glasses
He sips her slowly
Takes his time to leave no promises behind
Swims inside her without fingerprints
Pretends not to notice her hopeless lullaby
©2008 by Cathy Delaleu
art by April Mansilla "Please don't leave me"




Today, my brushes are clean, without a hint of color and i'm not sure about tomorrow. I haven't been inspired to paint lately, a lot has been going on with me medically and i'm struggling to stay positive with all the ups and downs i'm experiencing. Writing helps a lot, i'm juggling both art and words, they mesh well especially when you have a lot on your mind.

Happy Friday to all...there are numerous reasons I am grateful today to be here and say it's a blessed day. For example:

1. I woke up with the sun on my eyes

2. The weather is as sweet as strawberry jam and I can't complain

3. I've rediscovered my love for painting and writing

4. Going for a short walk this morning made the heart content

5. Taking pictures of nature, now that's fascinating

My latest paintings here posted are small but precious,it's always fun to use acrylic. I'm now working on some other ones. Now, must tell you about the sssssweeet weather here in AZ. I feel so spoiled and I'm thinking why didn't I make the move sooner.
The plant below is aloe vera, can you believe it? My mom has it all over her backyard and i've used it on my face and it's great, she also has others like a lemon trees with juicy lemons you can use for cooking and mint leaves. I've had the pleasure of boiling the mint leaves and drinking the tea, it relaxes the whole body. There's nothing like organically grown plants instead of store-bought tea bags, you can tell the difference. Life here is a little more layback, not at all the rush and stress i've experienced in NY. I believe 8 years was more than enough. The huge change in my life has occurred and although it was scary I made it with much faith, love and support from family and friends. I am still at the healing process, taking baby steps and not rushing over anything, that's how life should be for most of us in order to say "I've done it all, thank you".





INEVITABLE
You want me to pray with my ten toes
wrapped around my hands
I can't make any promises
Observe this body as a temple
Serenity is all I crave
all that's left in this flesh
I've added you as substance
A promotional upgrade
I hope you will keep me grounded
No failure or negativity at the table
Be gentle with me
Be gentle with my soul
©2008 Cathy Delaleu

"I have come to comprehend the aura of longevity
See how it flows
this true meaning of life
the purpose of our presence
We are meant to expose our emotions openly
in a jar of organs
Fill it up with tea leaves, herbs and spices
Sit still
Relax mind, heart and soul
Accept with certitude this brief control of life
This concept we view as convenience
is unpredictable
without warning we may kiss darkness
with our feet
Enjoy the now
Enjoy what is offered to us
as blessing"

2008byCathy Delaleu
art by Faiza/art profile

Thought of the day

"She looks beyond the horizon
Sees a future predicted for her
Accepts her fate with fear
A blessing in disguise
It makes her wonder
She has conquered
Yes...she has"

Hello Blog World

Yep, it's no other than Delaleu. In case many were not aware, my last blog was in May 2008. I had a stroke in May and had to move to Ohio to live with my sister and now moved to AZ to live with my Mom. I'm doing much better and want to thank all of you who kept me in your prayers. I've been living here 2 months now but haven't done much but going to all these doctor appointments and taking loads of medications for my lupus. It has been a great challenge at the same time maybe just maybe I should see it as a blessing cause NY was too stressful for my illness. I am taking it one day at a time and trying to get inspired again to write and to paint which I haven't done since May. Please keep me in your prayers and do come back for more poetry.

The Power of Forgiveness

With all my heart I want to hate you
I’m angry
sad
Emotions way overdue

You left us in a plane to Haiti
Told us it was a vacation

Deep down inside I knew you lied
We were kids we couldn’t fight

Had no choice without a voice

Six years of waiting
You never showed
I vowed to hate you

We lived with strangers who ate our cereal
Claimed they were family

Abused by hungry fingers
In the dark I prayed for Jesus
Had sweet dreams of my salvation
Stuck in a world of alienation

My spirit slowly died inside
I ask myself, Mom why you lied?

After six years we came to you
Saw in your eyes what you’ve been through
Our father left
You had three jobs
We were your angels
Alone in the dark
You felt we needed a fresh start
That’s why we were so far apart

Now I do appreciate your efforts
Even though I feel extreme anger
You kiss my tears
Your arms protect me
Tell me you’re sorry
I grimly smile
I forgive
End of story
©2005 by Cathy Delaleu
art by Delaleu


I was tagged by the lovely Miss Blu Jewel, i'm not a fan of tagging but this one was interesting enough to get my attention.

Link the person who tagged you.
Mention the rules in your blog.
Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger's blogs letting them know they've been tagged. Here goes:

1. You're on the bus or train, do we really need to hear the convo. you're having on your cell? I find it ridiculous. Also, you know damn well that once the train goes under the tunnel, you don't get any reception, so why pretend you can still hear the person on the other line? We know you can't. Duh.

2. I don't like standing in long lines at the store, I rather put my merchandise away then to stand there

3. If someone else cooked the meat I won't eat it, unless it's from my mom or sister. I'm very anal about eating meat at someone's home, meat should be clean first with vinegar or lemons before it's cooked. Well, that's how I was taught by mother dearest.

4. I'm in the habit of closing doors and turning off lights, why leave the light on if you're not using it? Save energy :)

5. I'm always on right on time or too early

6. Hate TV commercials with a passion, I rather click the mute button then to hear the same old ads

I don’t know when I’ll be myself again
To step to the limelight of life without fear
My path chosen a decade ago
With no intention of remission
Sold my twinkle little star to my sister
She holds it high like a trophy
In her eyes there is no remorse
All these meds I must swallow
It’s not a shame to cry over pain
The man next to me is a moron
Good enough to pay my insurance
He was once known as soul mate
Now he’s a shadow of doubts
I search for life with steroids and needles
Fingertips bleed uncertainty
There is silence in my dreams
Tears when the world is cruelly awake
Soundbites tangled with apologies
I search for answers at the sight of sunset
Surrender as my little star turns to dust
Lost is the comfort I yearn
Lost is this comfort
© 2008 by Cathy Delaleu
Art by Etsy.com

UNDISPUTED

I’m afraid of the dark
That’s when Daddy left
His dusty shoes in the foyer along with his favorite shirt
The wrinkled one soaked with mother’s tears
I managed to wash it with poetry
Mother says I need to stop dreaming
Daddy will never come back
He has no time now that he has 2 other boys to care for
I plan my escape with a backpack of goodies
Daddy’s shoes will take me to him
Take me to the place he chose as solace
Mother sleeps with books besides her
Counts pages of “I love you’s” like lottery tickets
No one will ever know how she stole those books
from my father’s side of the mattress
He was North of Haiti
She was South of Brooklyn
I found him in sunny Florida catching a tan with another woman
Mother swears the man I saw wasn’t my father
He is much lighter
More handsome in person
She identifies him as wasted fury of what could have been
Sniff his scent under her black dress
Obviously the wrinkled shirt cinched around her breasts
Is a reminder of his moonlight
The one he piled in Jacmel
Years before the slow-moving hurricane
I want this old man to come back
Retrace his steps to what he once knew as
home
©2008 by Cathy Delaleu
art by Karen Cougan

THE ATTITUDE OF INDIFFERENCE

Born in a land of swagger
Where earth and moon tongue kissed their lies
Footprints glowed on hearts that sang out loud their romance
She came beneath them
Frazzled and beautiful
A little girl with no hair
Hair so thin you can see a map of her heart
Anything you give
She takes
Anything you say
She swallows
You write her story to feel better
At 9 years old she thinks you’re a visitor
Who brings toys twice a year
More like Santa Claus in jeans
The tooth fairy that lost her wings
She sings to you on the phone
Your insides grow sore
Her voice is delicious like sunshine and strawberries
Tomorrow is when you will snatch her from the serpent
Take her to a better place
She will see your good intention as blessing
You blink your eyes
She’s now nineteen
You sit her down
Tell her the truth
That she belongs to you
She was always yours
Five hours of labor during a talk show of viewers
Little girl don’t believe you
She thinks you’re losing it
You act too desperate
Too nice
Not motherly
She chose to dance with the serpent
Until she marries one like him
Tall, dark and devious
She wants a man like Daddy
Except she wants him white
With long curly hair so he can approve
She gets extensions
Dresses into a Cinderella costume
Polishes her lips with glitter
Little girl twirls her way towards the sun
Her skin burns like fire
Her voice echoes Travelocity
She travels the world in search of her serpent
Determined to be happy
She realizes she’s too dark
Bleaches her face every morning
Now look…
Look how she glows like the moon
When she walks into a room
Everyone catches their breath
Little girl finds her blond hair, blue eyed serpent
He is not Daddy
He is Peter Pan who grabs her by the neck
Flies her to a world of abuse
Her tears stains her Cinderella dress
Turns it gray
She stops eating
Darkness gives her shivers
Her glow disappears
She sings for pennies on the subway
Her glow disappears
Daddy where are you?
She tries to undress the rain with a song
Little girl is unable to free herself
Isolation becomes her best friend
Intervention offered with my fingertips
She hugs without question
My peace offering
©2008 by C. Delaleu
painting by Etsy

I wrote this poem below out of frustration, cause it's not easy dealing with Lupus. Many out there deal with various types of illness and rarely do you find doctors that care. I've seen too many doctors for Lupus and believe me, I have not met one that shows genuine concern or compassion. They are always in a rush to examine you, no time to listen. The one person that did show me some care is not even a certified doctor, she's a holistic practitioner who believes the body can be healed with natural remedies. The natural meds do take a while but they work, you just have to be patient, lots of patience is required.


The helpless runs for relief
ignores the smiles of doctors
who claims the skittles they offer
will cure her pain
watch how she runs
she stomps over bodies buried in steroids
don’t stop the drugs
the men in white jackets yell
let’s make sure we dump your flesh
with toxins
you’ll look better in a hospital bed
Good health not an option
we only support those who are mentally dead
Long-term care won’t save you money
You bring us joy when you beg for relief
We don’t specialize in compassion
Rather we profit more when you bleed
(c)2008 by C. Delaleu

I've been tagged by Snarkly Black Chicks
It's a very interesting tag and couldn't help but respond.
Here are 7 delectable things you don't know about me

1. I'm addicted to chocolate chip scones at Whole Foods
2. Like to eat fresh snow before it touches the ground...i'm not the only one who does it, i'm sure, lol
3. I'm anal about people walking barefoot in my apartment
4. by nature, a homebody, doesn't take much to make me happy...being home with a home cooked meal, poetry and some movies are satisfying enough
5. I'll wake up at 5am on a Saturday or Sunday to paint then go back to bed at 10am
6. Love to write poetry at the strangest hours, for example at 2am when ideas and words flow into my dreams then i'll go back to bed
7. I love, love, love the 18th century era from songs to movies, something about that period leaves me breathless, the era of Catherine the great, get it? name is Cathy so i'm thinking I am a reproduction of her in spirit :) since I'm fascinated by the language, how they lived, how they loved...favorite movie of all time is Pride and Prejudice, another favorite is The Piano.

I cooked over the weekend using the ingredients pictured on top, it was yummy. I made salmon, plantain, sweet potatoe, carrots, spinach and string beans. It was delish!!
There's nothing like a good home cooked meal, remote control and a good movie :)

I watched two movies: I Am Legend and Enchanted, both were good. Will Smith was shirtless and left me breathless :)

LOVE DREAM

“Where are you going?” he questioned with a smirk

“I’m hot, want some ice cream,” was my response with a smile.

“I know you’re hot,” he pulled me close. “I can cool you off.”

“Well, you can start with some vanilla Swiss almond ice cream”

“And then some,” he chuckled, lifting me swiftly off the floor.

Marvin Gaye’s “I want you” was our interlude, caressing my ears.

His lips warm and demanding flew me back to Saint Martin where we met.

He carried me to the dining table. Yes, the dining table was our spot and then we would travel to the living room, and finally the last round would be the bedroom and to finish off we showered together.

“Where would you like to go next?” he asked.

“We can scroll back to the dining room,” was my proposal.

©2008 C. Delaleu

Hope you all have a healthy, blessed New Year. My California trip was great, the weather wasn't hot or cold, just perfect 60/70 degrees like early spring days in NY. It came to an end when I returned back to NY where the cold air slapped me to reality. These pics were taken at Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade in Cali, I was strolling with my Jamba Juice in hand and noticed all these cool art around me. The painting on top (Lady of soul in heels) is my first art created for 2008.

Well, it's time to set some goals which I made a wish list since November. I don't literally write a list on paper, normally it's in my head and I keep it at 5. Two years ago I had 10 on the list and was greatly disappointed at myself and since then I decided to keep it simple.

So, what are your goals for 2008? What do you plan to accomplish?

1. Parabole of Joy (sold)

2. Twinkle Little Star

3. Avalanche

Bamboozled

I envy her loss
The one she feeds with her eyes
Unhappy with her accomplishments
She grabs hard-earned tears
Stash them in piggy banks
Re-edit dreams with a sweet tongue
Sabotage spoken word as rape
She might as well carry a knife under her kinte dress
Her sweet smile only last a minute
She begs to read your words when everyone’s asleep
Swears that’s the only way you’ll make money
In fact
You’ll be more popular by standing right behind her
She hustle manuscripts like virgin records
Says she’s here for her people
“They need me to recognize their struggle”
she’s creative with excuses
reads the Bible to alleviate guilt
can’t you see?
the mask she wears is your own
Your very own dream is her award
Beware
Beware
She chants your verses in her sleep
©2007 C. Delaleu


USELESS
The heart is useless
Given too many choices
Emotions thrown at the curb
Lust given away for free on the #4 train
Afraid of consequences
Useless
this heart hums in Creole
My mother’s tongue wrapped around the trachea
Like chilled coconut juice
Useless
this thick organ of predictability
Stuffed with false intentions
Lanes of noiseless kisses
Fantasies made for an 8 year old
Who chats under the sheets with dolls
Devious is this heart
With a motive to kill vessels
I keep it secluded beneath train tracks and buses
Burning ashes like an Indian in mourning
Prayers sent to ancestors who did the same
Women who opened their heart too quickly
Estimates their lungs will swell
With each proposal
©2007 C. Delaleu


Hope all of you enjoy your holidays and the New Year, i'll be in sunny California...need to get away from this New York cold. When I get back I will spoil you with more poetry and pics. Stay warm :)

AN OPPORTUNITY NOT TO BE MISSED

POET & ARTIST

CATHY DELALEU

Showcasing her latest artwork on sale for the Holidays
Saturday, 12/15/07
5:30pm-10pm
Brooklyn, New York
There will be music and appetizers

Affordable paintings for under $100

If you’d like to attend please email her for directions
cathy@delaleuwritings.com
If you cannot attend, artwork will be on display online
Sunday, 12/16/07

JOLIE FLOWER GIRL

What is there to tell?
The soundtrack to her life is invaluable
An amplifier full of misadventures
Still
She comes home alone
Once 15 years ago she carried daisies down the aisle
Watched how her sister’s left finger grew with a platinum ring
There was no envy
Only hope that one day love will carry her over unexpected places
She waits for him by the phone
Thirsty for this desire always scribbling in her heart
Interprets this character as exclusive
She caught her sister’s bouquet
Ran with it
Critics point at her failures
Why is the bachelor to blame?
She’s the one with the issues
At 37 she should have it all
Her lyrical details are sketchy
She rejects love at first sight
Tells her friends it doesn’t exist
Or if it does
It has passed her by
Slapped her with wrinkles
© 11/07 by Cathy Delaleu

TO MY FATHER
My sister and I didn’t set out to be emotional wrecks
Father where were you?
Central Park was lifeless
The coldest winter was when you left in July
Little feet grew quickly
Your eldest fascinates strangers with words and art
Her dreams too marvelous and complex
Father where were you?
Love is an organism full of life
Yet your daughter is unable to speak or even process your memoir
She swallows air without guidance
Adjourns to a café across the street
Write her little head off until it makes perfect sense
Until her fingers grow numb with intermission
The journals are a centerpiece for mommy to admire
See her daughter has written a book
Mommy flaunts it to friends
If she only knew the contents
How each page bleeds work in progress
Punctures the cervix each time your name is mentioned
Do you know why the divorce rate has risen?
You weren’t my first love
Not the first to say I’m beautiful
Not the one to walk me down the aisle
Or take me to my first dance
Seven years later divorce has given me a one-sentence summary
A map is used to free me from isolation
Fortunately
My daughter has her daddy to look up to
A success story with a perfect ending
© 11/07 by C. Delaleu

It was difficult growing up without a father. Being in my 30’s, he has reappeared in my life and tries to play catch-up which to me is hilarious. I’m too old now to do most stuff daughters get to do with their dad but I do have a much better understanding as to why I am the way I am when it comes to relationships. I have passed the “bitter” phase with him and have accommodated our relationship as “friends”. That’s all I can offer him.


Please take a moment to read Aminah Love's reply (To My Lyrical Sista/dated 11/2/07)based on my "10/23/07 To a Girlfriend" poem.

artwork "Jolie Flowergirl" by Cathy Delaleu

SHOW and TELL


This is one of those nights where I wish someone was here to cook me dinner or better yet have one of my sister's delicious meals. The pic below says it all, no need for details but I wanted to share. Back in September while I stayed at my sister's, she was cooking almost every day. She's one of those talented ones who love to cook, whips up a meal with scraps and leftovers. She's that good. Me, on the other hand I follow some rules but have my own Delaleu flavor. In food, I love color and fire, meaning give me a BANG! of chilli powder and another BANG! of cayenne pepper. My sister cooked me this dish (shown above), ummmmmmmmm, baked catfish, string beans, potatoes, spinach and carrots. Before chowing down and giving her my thank-you hug, I snapped a picture of it and took it out on the patio where I sat down with nature and gave thanks.

Believe me when I was done with the plate, I was ready to lounge sideways on my chair and doze off...lol. I think I did, but then thirty minutes later, I was searching for something sweet :)
sweets, sweets, where are thou?





This here is my latest creation, I call it "Organic Soul". It's acrylic, a little pastel and tissue paper on the bottom to give it this thick, blue ocean effect.

On September’s new sun you came to me with the strangest sound
Toes and fingers stomping
In your eyes I saw God
Understood the spiritual side of birth
You glowed like the moon while you slept in my arms
The hardest part about loving you was letting you go
Across the West coast boarder I hear the beat of your heart
Try to reach for you in my sleep
Pray one day you will comprehend why I left you behind wrapped with my doubts and fear
I cannot justify
Cannot restore
Cannot rehabilitate
Cannot resuscitate the past
Beneath my belly you grew quietly
Unable to cry infant tears
Years hitches you a ride to forgetfulness
Sandstorm clouding your mind
My once a week phone call waters you with smiles
Therapy not enough to vanquish guilt
Deep-rooted pain strike joints
Jab the anguish stars I created for us in acrylic paper
My ink runs through your blood
With Haitian revolution translating confession
I am committed to make you mine someday
Determined to make you see me as your mother
I will hand you my own script of multilayered disappointments coupled with hope
Never meant to be your weakest link of confusion and aggravation
It’s 8pm today
Your father wants me stoned with his words
Sign on the dotted line to allow another woman to take over my joy
Can she have the ability to love you like I do?
I am not dead yet your father is mourning my name to neighbors
“Die bitch,” he whispers behind closed doors
I purge my anger in brush fires
The Santa Ana wind sings flame of prayers to God
Reality is to hate
But doing so is useless
The smoke thickens
And your smile and laughter disappears
Dear daughter
I’m sorry
Mommy will not sign on the dotted line
©10/07 by C. Delaleu
art by KJ & the dreamy giraffe

I was compelled to write this piece based on a true story of a woman who lost custody of her daughter because she moved out of state and was given visitation rights by the courts. She has made the effort to keep in contact with her daughter weekly by phone, sending her letters and toys and traveling 2-3 times a year to visit her. Her ex-husband remarried and now wants her to sign adoption papers in order for his new wife to become the legal custodian.

TO A GIRLFRIEND

Sister Love you know who I am
Where I’ve been
Where I’m going
You know why I warm up my insides
With this quilted heart
Why heartache is a heeled boot
Worn as a side zipper for easy entry
Shaped like rubber
Tapered with feelings
I’ve written to you before
I don’t believe in Hell
For once love was fundamental
The notion of Heaven on earth
Without the need of slip-ons or double-wrapped belt
Reborn over with this gift from God
I was allowed to sleep forever
A purpose to daydream with eyes closed

Sister Love I haven’t been myself
Giving this body freely to the male ego
My spirit ruptured repeatedly
I have not been saluted as his queen
My soul is a gift
You told me I was conceived twice without stipulation
God wanted to make sure his feminine art was opened
to endless possibilities
instead his poetry collection is found nestled
in a man’s sack
nipped and tucked

Sister Love only you can understand this strange convulsion
This anxiety that causes me to die repeatedly when legs are spread open to him
I am never too hungry
Yet he is the addiction at my corner store
I don’t need him to make me complete
I look in vain for his approval
For his body is a temporary cubicle
Not-for-profit
Simply liberating
Does it make sense to you?

You have been my mentor
And I have disappointed you
Disappointed myself
I feel lost
Again
And again
I am never too hungry
A full plate is meaningless when all I use is a saucer
I feed him without intellectual flirtation
more than he gives of himself

I’ve written to you before
Avoiding the harsh truth
That he is not the one for me


This non-nurturing comfort is meaningless
I am losing my sense of well-being, my balance
I seek some part of myself
My identity in him
While we dance this one mile song
I have flown with calloused feet
Sinking deep into his dark mud
The best moments are when I’m alone
Self-contained
Self-preserved
A woman I am again
Persistent to find this love
No matter how many times I fall face forward on concrete...
I scramble quickly to my feet
To emphasize
That he is not the one for me

You’ve said it before
The best is saved for last

The night is still young

© 2007 by Cathy Delaleu
Painting by Mystikalart