I'm Drained:

I want to write but I'm tired. I promise there will be entries soon. I love you. I hope you love me too cuz I need love. I really do.

Christmas Resolution:

I don't make New Year's Resolutions. I feel like Jan. 1st is too late to break old habits and start new ones so I always begin mine on Christmas day and yesterday was no exception. While chanting 3 hours of daimoku (that's chanting Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo) I wrote this in my journal:

12/25/11 Merry Christmas !!!

I am talented, genuine but still impure.
Sooo to take control of my life and get the most from it I've decided to do an experiment. Starting today until Christmas day of 2012 I've decided to be 100% raw & 100% Buddhist! lol!

So for me this means consistent effort everyday to get the most out of my body and this life.

- 3 hours of daimoku a day + morning and evening gongyo
- Only fruits, veggies, nuts, seeds and water a day, all uncooked and all the time.

I gave De'Von til age 25 to get his shit together and be with me. I can't have him do that and I'm still in the same place. And because I'm special and I know it, I can do this. I can no longer put myself in the ranks of those of lower frequencies. I have to be me and do me things.

I'm ruled by the # 3
And I love fruits and veggies
So it only seems right that I make these srtides for me.
So I'm gonna start with one full year. And if all is successful on Christmas 2012 then I will extend my studies for another year and see where I am by 25 and if you know who is with me.

That's all I wrote and that's all I need my health and my faith.
Feed the body and the spirit with only the best ingredients.
You should never do an experiment that you can't conduct on yourself.
Consider me a scientist because if my hypothesis is correct then you will never be hearing the end of this.
But you got a year to find out. And if you haven't figured out what my hypothesis is then I can show better than I can explain. Because love is an action at the end of the day and I do love you.
_Bajá Marie

Words From Mentor:

Sooo as you may already know I'm a Nichiren Buddhist of the Lay Buddhist Organization known as the SGI which means Soka Gaikkai (Value-Creating Society) International.

The President of this organization is my mentor and he goes by the name of Daisaku Ikeda. I would like to share some of his words with you, in hopes that they will inspire you as they inspire me! Love YOU!

The eyes of a poet discover in each person a unique and irreplaceable humanity. While arrogant intellect seeks to control and manipulate the world, the poetic spirit bows with reverence before its mysteries. – Daisaku Ikeda

The institutions of human society treat us as parts of a machine. They assign us ranks and place considerable pressure upon us to fulfill defined roles. We need something to help us restore our lost and distorted humanity. Each of us has feelings that have been suppressed and have built up inside. There is a voiceless cry resting in the depths of our souls, waiting for expression. Art gives the soul’s feelings voice and form. - Daisaku Ikeda

Salute to Poets

By Daisaku Ikeda

There is a power in words,                  Poets!                                                                     that incites

an infinite power                                  Poets whose fine hearts                                      xenophobic rejection;

to revive, restore                                  feel the full torment                                            with low and ugly rumor

and make blaze anew.                       Of people’s pain!                                                 whose sole purpose is

                                                                                                                                                to degrade and demean;

There is a life in poetry,                      War, nuclear weapons,                                       with shrieked abuse            

a limitless, eternal life                         environmental destruction,                                                that destroys dignity

that can stir and arouse                      discrimination,                                                     tearing into the heart

a society to new vibrancy.                 The tramping of people’s rights -      like a lethal blade.

                                                                all these problems                               

Poets!                                                     are caused and created                                      This flood

Reflected in                                          by human beings.                                                                of deceptive, vacuous

your clear eyes                                     Thus there is                                                         and violent language

- like the still waters                             no misery or cruelty                                            has caused people        

of a lake-                                               beyond our power                                       to treat all words and language         

we can see:                                           as humans                                                            as suspect.

Clusters of people                                to resolve.                                                              Words are         

fleeing in confusion                                                                                                             the human heart         

through a field of battle.                    All people, everyone                                           and this doubt          

A wailing mother                                 crave and thirst                                                    has driven people

tenderly cradling                                  for peace,                                              into the dark and rampant isolation          

a tiny corpse.                                        everyone seeks and pursues                              of cynicism and fear,

An infant,                                              the goal of happiness.                                         distrusting everything

starving, emaciated,                                                                                                            including society

weakened and awaiting death.         All people                                                              and humanity itself.          

The trembling fist                                hold within themselves,                

of a young boy,                                   in their hearts,                                                       Ah, poets!

who writhes beneath                           a golden sun                                                         Now is the time 

the crushing weights of                       that can brightly light their own lives               to use the words

discrimination and hate.                    and shed far and wide                                        of compassion and truth, 

                                                                warm and brilliant beams                         the words of universal justice

Poets!                                                     of friendship and fraternity.            that roil and seethe within your heart,    

Through your keen ears                     This inner luster                                            to use these words to dispel

we can hear,                                         of life itself                                                     the dark and heavy clouds

as in an echoing valley:                      is the ultimate                                                       of language laden with

The self-mocking sighs                       font and source                                                    false and evil intent,

of young people                                   of new creation.                                                   to stir new winds

filled with mistrust and isolation,                                                                                      of hope and courage,

who sense no future                            Poets!                                                                     to bring about a

as they wander aimlessly                   Now is  the time                                                   new and golden dawn!

through thronging crowds.                 to raise your voices,                                           

The painful cry of Earth herself,      to call forth and awaken                             Mahatma Gandhi declares:

Oceans and atmosphere polluted,   the sun sleeping                                    “A poet is one who can call forth    

stripped and denuded of green,        in the hearts of people                    the good latent in the human breast.”

bound by atomic burdens,                 the world over.          

crying in distress                                                                                                                   Ah! The innumerable

as she continues to revolve                               Society is awash                                                  cruel fissures that split

on her grinding axis.                            with false discourse;                                            and divide our

                                                                with propaganda                                                 blue planet.

Divisions based                                    flowering tree                                                        Poets, arise!

on differences                                      - cherry, plum, peach and damson -                                Wait for no one,

of ideology,                                           uniquely valuable.                                               But stand up resolute

of state,                                                 Difference is                                                         and alone!

of national and                                    the quality that                                                   

ethnic identity,                                     enables us                                                             With our words

of religion,                                             to learn from each other,                                   and with our actions,

of class.                                                 to complement and fulfill each other,             let us till and turn

                                                                to respect and honor each other.                      the sprawling expanse,

The absurd, horrific                                                                                                             the desert aridity

and repeated reality                            Poets!                                                                     of people’s hearts.

of people                                               Let us throw new bridges   

turned against people                         across the gulfs dividing                                     The voice of the poet

viciously discriminating,                     people’s hearts!                                             who has chosen to stand alone

resenting, wrangling                             With the cries that issue                               calls out to and resounds with

and hating each other.                        from your soul                                                     the voice of another

                                                                turn the gears of history:                                    self-sufficient poet.

The deepest evil,                                  away from suspicion and toward trust            A single ripple

the ultimate source                              from divisiveness to harmony,                         elicits ten thousand waves.

of all conflict and tragedy,                               from war to peace.

Is the dividing heart,                                                                                                           When our cries of justice

Preoccupied with difference              We are all human beings.                                   swell to a symphony

it drives  people                                    The poetic spirit                                                 extolling humanity and life

to reject and exclude                          beats and throbs                                               and when its resonant tones

others.                                                    In our veins!                                                  Reach all corners of the Earth,

                                                                                                                                              wrapping and cradling it…

But this very Earth,                             All people are in fact

this lovely planet,                                                sisters and brothers                                              Then the deep red glory,

is a garden rich                                     capable of mutual love,                                     the dawning sun

with the full and gorgeous                  of coming together                                of peace for all people everywhere

blossoming                                            in harmonious unity.                                           will rise and lift

of diversity.                                                                                                                           into the sky.         

                                                                                                               

It is difference                                      All people

above all                                               have the right

that makes each                                  to live out our lives                             

Dedicated to the members of the World Congress of Poets, Sept. 2007

Who I Am?

My name is Bajá Marie
I ain't famous
I'm a nobody
but my energy?!?!
My energy is like crack
you get a hit of this smack
you always come back
So I don't worry
every situation in life is temporary
death is not permanent
only a sentiment
that transforms into a reincarnate.

I lost my train of thought basically what I'm trying to say is who I am is all that the heart conveys. and the heart does not convey with words, they are too shallow. Which is probably why I can't complete the poem.
I am art personified because I am the heart personified. You can't spell heart without art. I mean it has to be truth. My first love is dance. I started dancing at the age of three. I started writing poetry at the age of twelve because I got tired of my mom reading my journals and spitting it back to me in her own perverted perception. Poetry was my way of saying "Ma you wanna read in between my lines? Okay well try these on for size." Hahaha!!! I know my jokes aren't funny and I'm lame, I love it! Anyways I started singing at 17. I started coloring and sketching in July of this year and painting last week. Oh and I design my own clothes and jewelry when the free time finds me. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried and by Gosh I'm not bragging cuz I didn't choose this life, I just chose to be me. And me, Bajá Marie is not an artist but a heartist: a healer. Heart is the intent and art is the action.

Painted or Tainted Masterpiece in the Making

I painted this picture today.
Today I painted,
because only colors can express
this
pain-less
express:
     to puncture paper with cursive tattoo art
     to pencil in pieces of my heart
     both approaches
haunt me like my past life amongst roaches
worth-less
express:
       i love to be stroked
       i love to be painted
not tainted.

can you spare me this pain-less
express?

I'm a masterpiece in the making
so it's only right I spend my time painting
I'm an artist
I express art more as I grow
not
less

I share my art folks
that love making that creates folks
art
his brush taught me the stroke
so I thought he knew how to blend
to make my color more volumous and
vibrant
fuck a metaphor,
dick so good I cant speak
doctor's on the other end of the phone now
cuz the dick was soo good;
I cant speak.
I've lost speach,
my only language is the stroke
he used on me
and I paint
 mixing colors with black to dim their brilliance
covering the rebellious graffitti that praised
freedom songs
red, black, green and gold
all the other colors were robbed from me
when the flood gates opened
and I let him in
all because I was Indiana Jones'n
wanted to hear me moanin'
didn't realize I was fakin'
time was wastin'
now she's wasted
tainted,
in the eyes of the vast majority,
but she belongs to me
and I see
clearly,
she's just painted
not in permanent ink
picture not yet complete
not framed,
not penciled in,
not signed,
not praised,
but raised like the cheek bones in my Mona Lisa's smile (My friend Lisa, that is)
true art lovers won't use brush strokes to try to change it
they will just admire from afar
or stand by my side
and watch me
painting
this masterpiece in the making.
~Bajá Marie

Sharing Stories: This Is My Lisa

My Lisa and I share stories and we share lives. And now we share lives with you.
By Lisa Coleman

You are going to regret this. (Meaning Earl) A break is well needed for both of us. He needs to get his shit together and I need a new start. What can I say, I love this man and it will never be at least not now, who knows if it will ever. I need a new start, I'm ready for something new. Not too experience love but to find a new me, a stronger more adventurous me. The person that is willing to work on themselves and not be scared to tackle the hard stuff head on. I think that's why I want to move to NY because new York is more than just a city, it a place where you really have to fight and tackle yourself mentally and physically against all the odds and proving to yourself that you can make it no matter what. People may say, you can do that in any city but that not true, you have to go where you'll be challenged the most or else you'll never know. NY isn't just a place of just starting your dreams it's a place of hope and victory. For anyone that wants a fresh new start and the greatest challenge you may face in your life as an adult. I don't know why i wrote this but I wanted to share this with you.

I'm Inspired:

I'm a dreamer
I love stories
Storytelling is apart of the African culture
they call me Afrocentric
I love our story as African
Americans
One day I'd like to go to Africa
and share stories
I want to meet the birthplace of my first love
My first love is dance
poetry is my mistress
and we have a threesome
everyday
in my mind
my mind is poetry's origin
because my mind is interconnected
to stories
all stories
that's why I love them

dance takes care of me physically
poetry makes love to me mentally
and singing,
yes I was blessed with a voice that
"resonates with the spirit of the ancestors" - an elder told me
singing is how I breathe
it feeds sweet oxygen into my blood stream
through my heart valves
and out of my mouth.
I sing,
because singing is born from air
and I am free

I want to tell stories
so I write
I write because my words are better expressed
in bare sentence
than Ebonics,
conspiracy,
law,
arithmetic or even astrology
my story is me
and I am all people
simultaneously
because I live intertwined with my reality
enjoying every
single
moment
I receive
and I am pleased
happy
with simplicity
is the truth
and the truth will set you free.

There's is a side of me that tells me to stop
that nobody cares for your writing
that nobody cares for stories
anymore
because they've lost hope.
they are not being
they are just human
and I am a human-being
being human is alien to me.
I hope
I dream
I imagine
I have faith
I am alive
I am happy
everyday I wake up!
and I'm not just saying that
I'm broke as hell
I'm unemployed
I've fasted for a living because is for the having not the giving
I've worked to support my family
I have nothing
yet I have everything!
I have people who love me
people who listen to me
I am kind, good-hearted
I'm separate from the masses
because I stray away from group think classes
but I am forever equal
and eternally free
It's in my history
It's in my feet on the concrete, carpet, wood floors and marley
It's in my fingers when I caress a pen or tap the keys
It's in my vocal chords when I close my eyes and dream into the mic stand
i am ordinary
my story is extra-ordinary
my story is me
and meant to be shared with you
because I love you
I really do.
-Bajá Marie