In recognition of National Poetry Month we've partnered with Fulton County Arts & Culture South Fulton Arts Center to present "Lyrical Therapy" - A Poetry Presentation.
We'd like to invite you out to participate in this wonderful event. It will be a night filled with Spoken Word, Poetry Readings, and Lyrical Movement.
If you've been waiting for an opportunity to present your own pieces before a live audience... wait no more!
There will be an Open Mic Session! Space is limited so
visit Eventbrite today to order your tickets! https://www.eventbrite.com/e/lyrical-therapy-tickets-21990141104
Recently, Iyanla Vanzant did a series of shows featuring a man named Jay who fathered 34 children by 17 different women. As a single mom, I felt a number of emotions while watching the show. I experienced feelings of disgust, outrage, sadness, sympathy, and eventually understanding. What I came to understand was that Jay’s issues were way deeper than he even anticipated. His desire to be loved caused him to seek that love in all of the wrong places and make many terrible decisions along the way.
As the shows progressed, Iyanla made a point to speak to the women. She wanted to assess their state of mind. She wanted to get to the root of their issues. She wanted to understand how these women could allow themselves to get involved with a man who had so many children prior to meeting them. She wanted to understand how one man was able to romance his way into their hearts and disrupt all of their lives.
On the “reunion” episode with the mothers of Jay’s children, Iyanla made a very powerful statement to them as well as the other women in the audience. She said, “You are NOT a victim and you have NOT been victimized.” WOW!! What a powerful statement? How many of us have been living our lives as victims of our circumstances? How many of us feel victimized by our family and friends? How many of us are guilty of expressing victim type thoughts (i.e. He left me to raise these kids by myself; He left me for my best friend; Everybody hates me, etc)? All of these statements allow us to play the role of victim in our lives. They allow us to wallow in self-pity and are often used to get people to empathize with us.
Iyanla’s statement cut me to the core. It really made me sit down and think. Have I been living my life as a victim and not a victor? My faith teaches me that Jesus has overcome the world and in Him I am victorious. Although I know this to be true, I really had to look deep within myself to find the answer to this question. It made me consider whether or not I was actually living up to my faith. It made me question if I really believed what I said I believed. How can one statement be so profound that it can cause me to look at my life in such a different perspective? It was literally eye-opening.
I will admit that I have been guilty of making such statements. I have even played the victim a time or two. However, what I have learned is that I had to let go of that type of thinking and replace it with something more positive. I also learned that I have to take responsibility for the role I played in the things that have happened to me. I have come to realize that everything that I have been through in my life is designed to teach me a lesson and to lead me closer to my purpose. Most importantly, I have to start speaking and living like a victorious person.
What would happen if you stopped looking at your life through the eyes of a victim? What would happen if you chose to speak life over yourself and your situation? What would it take for you to start living a victorious life? Remember, your life is your testimony so live it victoriously!!!
Tonya D. Zeigler
The Journey of “From Pain 2 Poetry” began almost 2 years ago with the 2nd of 4 Volumes having been recently released. From Pain 2 Poetry: Taking Off the Mask, Vol. 2 is very different from the first as it seeks to bring light to a woman’s need to deal with her own issues, many of which are self-imposed. In this volume, Dawn-Charmel brings to light the unthinkable notion that a woman could allow her daughter’s “treasure” to be stolen in an effort to please her significant other in her poem, “Stolen Treasure.” Cassandra delves into the fascination of the black woman’s hips, lips, breasts, and thighs with her poem, “I am Sarah Baartman.” Sarah Baartman was put on display for the entire world to see and treated as if she was a side show. Cassandra notes that today’s young women treat themselves as side shows by putting their bodies on display for the entire world to see. Yes, some women have done and continue to do the unthinkable, but triumph awaits as you continue to turn the pages. Tonya encourages each and every woman reading this book to “Rise Up” as she boldly declares that women are resilient and can rise above anything. Last, but not least, Martha seeks to encourage women to love themselves with her poem “I Love Me.” Martha explains that her love for herself is so deep that it can’t be touched and notes that other women ought to learn to love themselves the same. God created them in His image; therefore, they should not deny themselves of one of the greatest gifts ever given, “love.”
Pick up your copy TODAY!
Pink is a pretty color. It’s a soft color that represents femininity and a sign of hope. But the color pink is not so pretty in the month of October when the world is wearing it for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Over the years, the color pink and the pink ribbon have come to symbolize breast cancer awareness. But I imagine for those people who are still fighting the deadly disease, or for those who have lost a love one to breast cancer, the color pink in October may be like a black cloud over their heads. Or it may be a constant reminder that they were not lucky enough to be the survivor who wears the pink ribbon as a badge of honor.
By Martha M. Bradley
As she turns the chapters in the book she calls her life, she sees a dark past and a future that looks grim.
The pages in the front of the book represent her past. They are dirty and torn because SHE finds herself
reading & reliving the events listed there over and over again. The more SHE reads them and relives them
her future begins to look darker and darker and for some reason SHE can’t get past her pain long enough
to realize that the pages near the end of the book that represent her future are actually blank. After years
and years of reading the first six chapters over and over again, SHE finally asked herself, “Can someone
help me fix my broken life?”
By Cassandra R. McKibben
October brings in the crisp and cool, autumn mornings, the smell of pumpkin spice, and the color pink in recognition of Breast Cancer Awareness. But did you know October is also Domestic Violence Awareness Month? Domestic Violence is a problem that plagues many homes across America. The awareness puts a face to domestic violence and gives a voice to its silent victims. Where does the violence begin? Who are the victims? How can you help end this problem that may be right, next door or even in your own home? As women we must protect ourselves from violent and unsafe environments, and also our children, if any are involved. We also have to learn to make right choices when choosing our partners, boyfriends and husbands.
I recently left home after what I considered to be a vicious hail storm. I tried to be as cautious as possible because it’s not uncommon to see debris on the roads after storms. As I pulled out of my subdivision, I looked for a tree that had been leaning because after all the wind from the storm I was sure that it would fall but it didn’t. On my way home I took the very same path. I didn’t feel the need to be as cautious because previously the roads were very clear. As I approached a certain point on the journey home, I noticed that I could no longer see clearly down the road. I wasn’t sure exactly why I couldn’t see so for a brief moment I speculated; It’s dark outside, or maybe I’m approaching a hill and just can’t see over to the other side. I began to slow down and then I hit the brakes. There was a huge tree blocking the entire street. It had fallen after the storm.
As I sit here and consider life and its meaning, I wonder why so many women walk around dead. Of course, they are living in the physical sense; but everything else about some women, or I’ll say her, just appears to be deceased. Her spiritual life is run amuck, anything goes. She’s experiencing emotions that are all over the map. Her physical health is declining and her mental health is being ignored. She gives up the “I” and “me” for “we” and “us” when she’s married and/or decided to have children. She’s currently traveling on a journey in life that will ultimately lead to physical death. Is she really living? She carries burdens heavier than anyone should ever have to bear and it always seems as if every time she takes one step forward she is forced to take ten steps back. She walks in fear and bondage, yet she pretends to live. Yes, she has a pulse; but I believe she is dead. Why is she dead? She’s dead because she walks in fear and has lost hope for her tomorrow.