WE ARE NOT ANGRY WOMEN, WE'RE JUST TIRED!

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Contents

This poet laureate shifting gears Gearing up......................................1Emotionally pregnant socially aborted.............................................9Race Relations Suck...............................................................16If you can't afford to lose it don't loan it!.....................................21Pissed on or Pissed Off...........................................................26The Happy Side of Romance – It's new........................................57Who said I Love You...............................................................66When "I love you" stops – is someone listening?.............................73Dancing with Destiny..............................................................78Cyber Dating and E-Whore Money....................................................81Sexless single girl...............................................................90White Men Can Jump to Conclusions.................................................94Racial Bashing is not acceptable – even in cyber dating.....................97Love, Lust or Lonely..............................................................99A Hand Full of Give Me............................................................103Girls and girlfriends.............................................................106Cougars Can Older Women and younger Men...........................................110Who is the arm candy?.............................................................116When Friendship crosses the line..................................................136Friends at First, Friends at Last.................................................138Friends after Sex.................................................................143Shutdown..........................................................................149Uncomfortable Moments.............................................................153Just Sex – Only Sex – Nothing but Sex.................................160When the Sex Part is Over.........................................................165Spiritual Values and the escape hatch.............................................172Denies, Lies without Alibis.......................................................177Ex-Wives and other baggage........................................................182Safe Sex is an acceptable dialogue................................................187Expectations......................................................................196It's not me - It really is you....................................................200Completely Over...................................................................203I just don't like you anymore.....................................................212We're Not Angry Women, we're just tired...........................................219

Chapter One

What a positive way to work toward change.

So much time is invested in the utilization of songs, music, greeting cards and even poetry to express the romance in our lives or lack thereof. We share the jubilant ecstasy of new relationships and the devastating crush of broken hearts with a Hallmark moment, an old love song or we sit down and write a poem adding another page to the journal that we call a diary when we were teens. The secrets we only wanted to tell our best friends but hide the most painful portions in the corners of our hearts so that we could be the gutsy, sassy pillars of strengths that we practiced pretending. That was it, we practiced pretending and we pretended that it felt good; we pretended that we were happy. We were the stars of our own personal dramas and daytime soap operas that played on into the night and then into months and years. Who wants to cry today was not the title of a song but the excuse to watch a sad movie and associate with someone else's watery emotion. Damn it hurts to not hurt out loud. And while I have rambled through this brief spill of nonsense the realization that love is NOT supposed to hurt continues to ring in my central processing unit. A lot of poets have dedicated their work to the painful transitions of relationships. A lot of poets have disguised themselves as songwriters or songwriters and poets and have written the depths of their hearts in such profound ways. Sharing a brief moment of creation with the world and the popularity of their pain because of a symbol that many can identify with. Their hurt becomes a best seller, top of the chart and only because someone else can identify with that emotion.

"So this ain't no poetry book". These ramblings are very real. The poetry that exists in all of us and thrives on the wedding day march, the anniversary memories and the first kiss bliss is tantalizing and amazing but it gets old really quick. Men often talk about how giving caring and complacent women are during the courtship period and then they turn into monsters. Spelling monster with the letter "b" and not "m" those same men are caring, punctual considerate and dependable in the beginning. This, of course is too often followed by complaining how much the same wonderful women nag because they forgot, failed to complete put it on hold, lost it, misplaced it, didn't do it or was too damn busy doing the selfish bull crap that had dissipated during the courtship period. So let's set the record straight amidst the onset of these ramblings. It is always wonderful in the beginning and then someone who thinks they have the upper hand takes advantage of the kindness that was the love in a relationship. They take advantage of the giving spirit that had nurtured something good and special. The turn from loving friends into butt holes that think you owe them something. Ops, this is not the angry woman this is just a person who is a little fed up with the nonsense and so many other women can certainly identify with it.

We write poetry, we write songs and we create this romantic illusion that becomes a popular fad among throbbing hearts and hopeless romantic. If we really listen to the lyrics it's more than a notion that we run the same path over and over and over again. We can't all be like Eryka Badu and dump it out on a CD or drag it through the public eye in the raw but we'd like to. We'd love to dump the trash and leave our baggage at the airport. Unfortunately every time we drop it off some brother or sisters brings their luggage and it has some of our crap in it.

Romance is more than the poetry that makes me/us fall in love over and over again. It is so much more than that song that brought us together or caught us off guard in a secluded restaurant, the candle lit corner in the bar or the bench at the train station where we waited after missing the rush hour traffic. True romance is that part of us that awakens ever so often and brightens a dark room with a word, a whisper or a memory. It's the special moments that don't require flowers, candle light dinners or diamonds. It's that special part of us that wakes up with the sun, cuddles with the stars and relaxes with the moonlight. The poetry that sparks romance in our hearts might not even be read by the one we prepared it for. He hears but doesn't hear. He agrees but can't tell you what you said and if it was really important it had to be something he...