Live Your Life...Love, Peace & Sneaks™

A Double Egde Sword

2009-09-08T09:23:00.000-07:00

In the past few weeks, I've learned alot about how people change after being influenced by worldly things. Change is a way of life. Without it, we as human beings would not exist. Change is as unpredictable as life and as common as the common cold. But change is not always this thing that comes with this abstract concept we call time.

Objects have the power (if you give it) to destroy a person's thought process.

You see it everyday, a man buys a nice car, adds a few things, and then his personality changes. Suddenly they become "important" or they begin to act as if they own the world. Often times it's the same people who, once things go bad, ask for somethings or needs something to better themselves again. People can influence & control a person's way of life in a dramatic way. Once a group of people begin to manipulate the pattern of habit or change one's self being, the stage is set for a battle that most people (esp. me) are not willing to fight. The friendships of people I love are the most important thing to me. I never offer my friendship to those I don't see having an impact in my life. So for someone I truly care about to change so fast because an object and a group of people, it's blowing my mind right now.

A friend asked me about going to another "friend's" birthday party Friday and with a quickness I said no. I really didn't mean to come off as hateful or anything but what's the point? Here's a guy who had it not been for me he wouldn't know none of his new friends so for him to have 2 parties since school's started and not call me or anything why put myself in a situation that obviously I'm not wanted in. Change is funny because we want it. Hell, we need it but sometimes change isn't all it's cracked up to be.

I ♥ College!

2009-08-23T09:24:00.000-07:00

Ok yesterday was my first official day back at school and even though I was only gone for 3 months, things have changed. I haven't gotten the chance to walk around campus but I know that things have changed, for the better.

All this summer, I kept feeling like something was missing. Like some how, even though I was at home with the family I was misplaced, almost like I didn't belong. But being back here it feels like I'm home in a way.

I wanted to make this short but I'm back! Got my own computer, ready to start this all over again....

"Re-Load"™

2009-08-13T14:08:00.000-07:00

you ask me if I still love you,
and without hesitation I say no,
you treat me like an ant,
crawling around your mind,
searching,
looking for that one piece of knowledge,
that would allow me to finally see within your soul,
reassuring myself that I wouldn't have to worry,
but I do,
I live with knowing I will never be good enough to be your lover,
knowing that with every breath, my heart dies,
I never realized I would come to see you for who you really are,
A menace to my society,
A serial killer killing what thought I once had of being with you
by pulling a trigger
BANG!
One bullet for every time you spit "I love you's" at me
BANG!
Another one for that one chick who thought we were just friends
BANG!
I'm tired of these merry-go-rounds
BANG!
"I promise I'll never hurt you baby"
BANG!
"Even though we aren't together that doesn't mean I don't love you"
BANG!
CLICK!
CLICK!
RE-LOAD!
It may sound foolish,
but as you re-load,
there's a glimmer of hope in my mind,
that we can make it work,
that some where you love me more than you claim you do,
so keep shooting,
but aim right,
I don't think these bullets can last much longer

Jay Z-D.O.A (Death Of Autotune)

2009-06-30T19:36:00.001-07:00

Digging the video Jigga........

The Best That Did It! R.I.P Michael Joseph Jackson

2009-06-26T09:03:00.000-07:00

It feels like a dream.....

Yesterday felt like one big bad nightmare. The fam and I were at the grocery store when my sister got a text for her friend saying: Breaking News: Michael Jackson is dead! At first it all seemed like a horrible prank somebody was trying to pull because they have tried to before. But as the day went on and people started talking and then we came home and my sister turned it to CNN and it said Michael Jackson, Dead At 50, no words could describe the feeling I had in my stomach.

All my memories as a child growing up in a small town centered around Michael. From hanging a big poster of the Bad album cover on my ceiling so when I woke up I could see him to staying up all night to watch all his videos when they had marathon on MTV.

A piece of my childhood is gone

I don't where pop music or music in general would be if this man had never grab a mic and blessed us with his talents and light.

He gave up his childhood to be apart and entertain ours

Words of Wisdom-June 16, 2009

2009-06-16T13:44:00.000-07:00

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.
-Henry David Thoreau

No secret I go HAM for Beyonce

2009-06-16T13:29:00.000-07:00

I love the new video for Broken-Hearted Girl. I love how she's in this black/white, kinda greyscale thing in her videos.

Told ya so!

2009-06-14T20:40:00.001-07:00

NBA CHAMPS!!!

Show me that good ol ring Kobe!!!!!!!!

My Joint of The Week

2009-06-14T15:10:00.000-07:00

Looking at, Looking At, Looking at me/look at that, look how they looking at me/eyes all sticky like honey on bees/look At That, look how they lookin At Me

I am digging this new song by DC rapper Wale. "Chillin" for me is the song of this summer. Plus it features my favorite new artisit, Lady GaGa.

Words of Wisdom-June 12, 2009

2009-06-12T13:03:00.000-07:00

Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted.
-Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Just had to post this

2009-06-11T22:58:00.000-07:00

3-1 baby!!!! Let's Get It Baby!!!

Little Girl aka NDC

2009-06-11T22:19:00.000-07:00

Little girl
cold, scared, and alone
hiding behind the shell of dishonesty, greed, and the demons who sit on your back like moneys sit on trees
you don't get high on life
so you search for that fix, it calms you itch and I don't know how to save you
in fact I don't think I should
your battle is not mine to fight
your army should consist of 3 beings: you, God, and your conscience

it was by chance that we became friends
two little girls,
searching within their jumbled strains of colorblinded DNA to find who they really were
see, we clung to each other
enabling us to live within the binds of our friendship
assuring ourselves that we would never let slip our secerts

I don't know this person I see standing before me
viens, full of crack-filled pain
the frame of the person I once knew doesn't exist and I'm trying to figure out of the hell this happened. see we shared a common dream
we wanted to make it up out this itty bitty hick town
just to prove we were not the curses people used to bring us down

See, we wre kindred spirits,
sisters,
amigas,
homies,
my nigga we had something greater than best friends
we were family

And I know it may seem like I'm angry
but you had the same chance I did
the devil knocked on your door and you answered it

so little girl
cold, scared, and alone
I'm making my dreams come true
the ball is in your court now
I can't help you like you want me to

All I can do is pray
pray that one day
you stop being that little girl
searching within her jumbled strain of colorblind DNA trying to find herself
I pray that you grow
grow til you can't grow anymore
but until that day, baby, I'm sorry

I never asked to be the spitting image of your blood line

2009-06-02T08:53:00.000-07:00

Ok so this post is uber personal. This was actaully a letter I wrote to my grandmother about how I feel she has been to me for all of my live. Read it and leave comments

I'm tired of being the spitting of your blood line,
but it's hard being forced to define who you are by race
I'm tired of trying to keep up the pace,
trying to connect with a woman who never fully accepted the "mess" her daughter created.

Just because the dirty stained cloth of hatred and bigotry draps across your already fragile shoulders
doesn't mean the spawn of your only daughter, the hope for your tomorrow has to suffer
Love is a 3-word sentence
Something you never let in because you fenced in your emotions

I was 14 years old when I was first told of your lies
my mother & granfather died within 7 months of each other.
At their wakes, being stared at because of my color made me tremble
because I realize you never told your other family about me

You confuse me, see my pictures sit on your walls like trophies but you never tried to get to know me
I don't hate you though I should

Love is a 3-word sentence
Something you never let in because you fenced in your emotions
I love you
I need you
I appericate you
I accept you
I...forgive...you

I forgive you for the 19 birthdays you missed,
for that one kiss planted on my cheek by hate filled lips,
and for all the calls, I guess, God didn't bless with me
I never asked you to be my friend
I just wanted you in my life again

I never asked to be the spitting image of your blood line,
but it's hard being forced to define who you are by race
Just because the dirty stained cloth of hatred and bigotry draps across your already fragile shoulders
doesn't mean I have to suffer

Like the new layout?

2009-05-29T21:43:00.001-07:00

Please send me feedback on the new layout!

In the words of Amy: What kind of f*ckery is this?

2009-05-28T22:17:00.000-07:00

It's 1:18 AM I'm tired, my back hurts, and I'm sleepy but I wanted to leave y'all with something. Now it has been awhile since I have been on any kind of Internet BUT I have to spotlight some foolishness and mess that I happened to come across. Now remember like 3 or 4 years ago when Pretty Ricky(w/ Pleasure P) was hot? Humping poor chairs, walls, and stages. I knew back then something was a little off about the members and this piece of craziness and confusion proved my thesis!

Parental Advisory: Um, kiddies if you don't want to see penis, peen, or just straight foolishness.....I advise you not to watch the video

Oh my my my..... If anyone questioned "Sexy Spec" aka Spectacular's sexuality, boo, you just found your answer. What grown man challenges another grown man to a "grinding" contest? Furthermore what grown man embarrasses himself by dancing around like a Irish monkey drinking Whiskey on St. Patrick's Day? Who's saggy nasty draws did he steal to make this video? Bow Wow? Trey Songz? Pardon me, "Sexy Spec" but um, I don't ever remember them grinding on any kind of stage ever in their careers. I had all but forgotten who Pretty Ricky was until this video magically appeared oddly near the release of their new single "Tipsy in dis club." I guess no press is bad press huh?

Since the release of this video, many youtubers have made parodies of the now famous video.

Ok, I'm going to bed now....SMH. Black men please don't embarrass yourself in this fashion. Dang shame!!

I'm black I mean I back!!

2009-05-28T21:33:00.000-07:00

Ok so it's the summer and I have finished my first semester of college......G.P.A 3.166! Hell yeah, people I am living testimony that hard work does pay off. Anyway, since it is the summer, I decided to wreck shop and I changed alot of the layout and stuff. Now, this blog will not be a place for my poetry no no no. I do plan to talk about alot of things that I have on my chest that I haven't been able to say.

Silence Is Suicide

2009-05-04T11:14:00.000-07:00

I wrote this poem after doing my final project for my Intro to Human Services class. It was on HIV/AIDS in the African American community. I was watching a video on youtube about the topic when the announcer said "For the African American community, not talking about AIDS, the silence would be suicide" I wrote the words "Silence" and "Suicide" down on a piece of paper and began writing it.

My words are like the bullets in the barrel of a gun
ready to go off at any moment
and my letters are like the billions of stars twinkling in the vast universe
beautiful, elegant, and bright
every thought that lights up my brain
is like millions of tiny circuits shooting
signals down to every appliance connected to it.

But what if those shiny bullets vanished
and the gun of my mouth failed to go off
my silence would be suicide
it would be the death of me
and those like me
those who are not afraid to speak up for the innocent victim
those who refuse to be a bystander

I am an advocate for those who can not speak
for those who live life not having
the courage to open their mouth
and those who have been taught
to shut up, stay silent, and to be afraid of the consequences

For them, their silence is suicide
every time they are told to keep quiet
pieces of their freedom die inside
they don't know what it's like to free their mind
they don't know what it's like to have every thing they've ever wanted
they don't know what it's like to smile or laugh or sigh

We are their advocates
We are the ones
who can freely express our thoughts without fearing for our lives
we are the ones
our feelings actually matter
we are the ones
who will never fully understand their pain unless we have lived it

No, it's not fair
that millions of children die every day from the hands of a sick human being
no, it's not fair
that millions of people die every day from a disease that can be prevented
no, it's not fair
that millions of my black men are locked up unfairly by a country that claims slavery is over

My words are like the bullets in the barrel of a gun
ready to go off at any moment
and my letters are like the billions of stars twinkling in the vast universe
beautiful, elegant, and bright
every thought that lights up my brains
is like millions of tiny circuits shooting
signals down to every appliance connected to it.

But what if those shiny bullets vanished
and the gun of my mouth failed to go off
my silence would be murder
I would have killed those who can not speak
those who live life not having the courage to open their mouth
those who have been taught to shut up, stay silent, and to be afraid of the consequences

"Mahogany"

2009-04-17T12:56:00.000-07:00

“Mahogany"©
by Tulip Cole

He sat two seats in front of me on the bus every morning
He smiled at me just to say hello, and just like Beyonce, I could see his halo
His skin looked as if he just jumped out of a chocolate swimming pool and it dried in every beautiful spot on his gorgeous body

His lips were like rose pedals, a beautiful pastel pink and his eyes glittered an amazing brown in the mid day sun as my eyes danced every day at the sight of seeing him..
He never spoke to me in fact I didn’t think he knew my name but I knew his, see
they called him Mahogany and he was unaware that he had fan in me, see for months I noticed him in his nice Italian looking suit, drinking his coffee, listening to his i-pod and ignoring me.

Never having the courage to go up to him and speak, I sat in the corner like a sheep being meek and at times pretending to be asleep, see
I was scared what he might think of me.
He was like a beautiful Michelangelo painting, a living embodiment of David, and a true African King all rolled up in one, he was just that fine

One day he got on the bus, walked past his seat and to my surprise he sat beside me,
I felt like a rocket, ready to go off at any moment, see he didn’t know what that meant to me
Silent we both were. Like a rhythmic drum, my heart began beating at tempo faster than the speed light

I didn’t think it would last long, I mean what would he see in me? The longer the wait the faster the beating until he reached out his hand as his greeting and said “Hi, They call me Mahogany and you are unaware you have a fan in me. See I notice you every morning drinking your tea, reading a book, or asleep. And sometimes I want to walk back here just to whisper in your ear that I think I am experiencing love at first sight but I’m scared. See I heard they call you Carmel and you are the all to end everything, the one desire my soul has to breathe, and the only thing I look forward to in the morning”

So we sat and talked and after much consideration, I realized he was best for me.
I never felt like kissing his beautiful pastel pink rose pedals before.
I never felt like looking into his glittery amazing brown eyes before.
I never felt like breathing in his air or soaking up his knowledge before
But now I couldn’t hide it anymore

He sleeps right next to me in our bed every morning
He kisses me on my cheek just to say hello, and just like Beyonce, I can see his halo.
His name is Mahogany and he is aware that he has a fan in me

Procrastination Sucks!

2009-04-16T07:38:00.000-07:00

"Waiting is a trap. There will always be reasons to wait...The truth is, there are only two things in life, reasons and results, and reasons simply don't count."
-Robert Anthony

Ok so I'm sitting in the library at school. I came here to start work on a research paper that not only is due in like a week but I've known about since FEBRUARY!!! I don't know about other people but my mind can't focus on one thing at one time. I'll say I'm about to do my paper then wait two maybe three days to start. And it's not like I started this in college, I've been a procrastinator since middle school. It got worst during high school because I hated high school. But now Bennett College is experiencing something my high school teachers called "Tulip's Wait Period." This is when I wait to the last minute for EVERYTHING! Help Me! I'm not proud of this but Hello! I'm Tulip and I am a procrastinator!

My New Favorite Poet

2009-04-15T19:12:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, I was watching TV when this show called "Brave New Voices" came on. I had heard of it before I just never thought to look it up or anything. I watched as this young man from Brooklyn named B. Yung. After being amazed by him and his skills I had to look him up on youtube.

He is my new favorite poet because he, single handly, ingited the poetry fire in my heart again. He is the future.

His myspace: http://www.myspace.com/apoetnamedyung

his blog: http://brookyung.blogspot.com/

2009-04-14T20:09:00.000-07:00

I’m tired, tired of being broken down by many nights where
At times it looked so dark out there
I never understood how we as women survive see,
These days, our men run the streets in pursuit of something they can’t have, see
Nowadays a woman has to the protector, provider, and a father to a child, who will truly never understand why her father isn’t being a man

I’m sick, sick of always trying to find that beautiful light at the end of the tunnel not knowing how my luck will funnel down to my pockets, see my child needs me
Just because you are out in the streets, running to this corner and that corner just to make a dollar, doesn’t mean that your daughter, oops I’m sorry my daughter, has to suffer.
Some nights, I wonder how life would have been with you and I realize, nigga,
I’m better without you. You swear up and down that “baby, I’ll change, just wait” well fuck that I’m tired of waiting.

I’m tired of hoping and praying that you change,
knowing that when you come around you just want the change in my pocket so that you can save up for that Range you bull shit about.

I’m sick of always having to call your momma to ask where you are and she can never seem to tell me the exact location so I’m forced to be Detective Gadget in this bitch and look for you all over the nation.
She allows you to do whatever you want, just so she can flaunt to her friends at the new piece of shit you bought.

But mostly I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I’m sick and tired of hating you.
I’m sick and tired of fighting you.
I’m sick and tired of wanting you because I know I can never have you.

I’m tired, tired of being broken down by many nights where
At times it looked so dark out there
I never understood how we as women survive see,
These days, our men run the streets in pursuit of something they can’t have, see
Nowadays a woman has to the protector, provider, and a father to a child, who will truly never understand why her father isn’t being a man.
But what you have to understand is I’m sick and tired of being the man. So step up and listen.

Why I Love Poetry/Happy Easter

2009-04-11T18:08:00.000-07:00

I was going to wait and post this whenever I finished my poem but I couldn't wait. I've been a lover of poetry since probably pre-k. I remember when I was like 8. A children's poet came in and taught us alittle of her poetry. We were able to write our on little short poem. Mine said something like "The cat is black, he's sitting on a sack." When I was 9, my elementary school published books that my grade wrote. We could write anything; short stories, poems, or essays. I remember my little book had more poetry than stories in it. I wrote about my best friend at the time, my family, imaginary friends, and snowmen. In middle school, I loved poetry but my 8th grade english teacher ruined my love for a while. She, being an english teacher, was suppose to teach us poetry, but on the first day of class, she said she hated poetry so she would never read or write it. In high school, I had three teachers who truly inspired my love of poetry again but in different ways. Mrs. Faulkner inspired me to write poetry, Mrs. Whistant inspired me to read poetry, and Mrs. Hagan inspired me to hear poetry. Now that I go to Bennett College, I'm surrounded by many women who have, through reading and hearing them, inspired me to write poetry once more. To me, poetry is like a diary, you write things down that you feel at the moment and they are there forever. I will be posting some of my poetry on here.

In other news....

MyHotComments

I hope you have a great Easter. Eat lots of food!

R.I.P Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover

2009-04-10T12:09:00.000-07:00

NEW YORK, April 9, 2009 - An 11-year-old Massachusetts boy, Carl Joseph Walker-Hoover, hung himself Monday after enduring bullying at school, including daily taunts of being gay, despite his mother’s weekly pleas to the school to address the problem. This is at least the fourth suicide of a middle-school aged child linked to bullying this year.
Carl, a junior at New Leadership Charter School in Springfield who did not identify as gay, would have turned 12 on April 17, the same day hundreds of thousands of students will participate in the 13th annual National Day of Silence by taking some form of a vow of silence to bring attention to anti-LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender) bullying and harassment at school. The other three known cases of suicide among middle-school students took place in Chatham, Evanston and Chicago, Ill., in the month of February.
"Our hearts go out to Carl’s mother, Sirdeaner L. Walker, and other members of Carl's family, as well as to the community suffering from this loss," GLSEN Executive Director Eliza Byard said. "As we mourn yet another tragedy involving bullying at school, we must heed Ms. Walker’s urgent call for real, systemic, effective responses to the endemic problem of bullying and harassment. Especially in this time of societal crisis, adults in schools must be alert to the heightened pressure children face, and take action to create safe learning environments for the students in their care. In order to do that effectively, as this case so tragically illustrates, schools must deal head-on with anti-gay language and behavior."
Two of the top three reasons students said their peers were most often bullied at school were actual or perceived sexual orientation and gender expression, according to From Teasing to Torment: School Climate in America, a 2005 report by GLSEN and Harris Interactive. The top reason was physical appearance.
"As was the case with Carl, you do not have to identify as gay to be attacked with anti-LGBT language," Byard said. "From their earliest years on the school playground, students learn to use anti-LGBT language as the ultimate weapon to degrade their peers. In many cases, schools and teachers either ignore the behavior or don’t know how to intervene."
Nearly 9 out of 10 LGBT youth (86.2%) reported being verbally harassed at school in the past year because of their sexual orientation, nearly half (44.1%) reported being physically harassed and about a quarter (22.1%) reported being physically assaulted, according to GLSEN’s 2007 National School Climate Survey of more than 6,000 LGBT students.
In most cases, the harassment is unreported. Nearly two-thirds of LGBT students (60.8%) who experience harassment or assault never reported the incident to the school. The most common reason given was that they didn’t believe anything would be done to address the situation. Of those who did report the incident, nearly a third (31.1%) said the school staff did nothing in response. While LGBT youth face extreme victimization, bullying in general is also a widespread problem. More than a third of middle and high school students (37%) said that bullying, name-calling or harassment is a somewhat or very serious problem at their school, according to From Teasing to Torment. Bullying is even more severe in middle school. Two-thirds of middle school students (65%) reported being assaulted or harassed in the previous year and only 41% said they felt very safe at school.
Carl's suicide comes about a year after eighth-grader Lawrence King was shot and killed by a fellow student in a California classroom, allegedly because he was gay.
GLSEN recommends four simple approaches schools can take to begin addressing bullying now.
Said Walker in the Springfield Republican: "If anything can come of this, it's that another child doesn't have to suffer like this and there can be some justice for some other child. I don't want any other parent to go through this."

I'm so tired of this! May he rest in peace. My prayers are with his mother and their family.

I Refuse To Be A Slave To Drama!

2009-04-09T23:58:00.000-07:00

During high school, I was told that nothing gets worse than the drama of high school. But whoever told me that, either didn't expect me to go to college or didn't think I would pick an all-women college. None of the lying, fighting, crying, and backstabbing compares to the drama that surrounds college. From rumors to fights, it's almost as bad as high school. Most girls, of whom I hopefully to be one day, have matured and decided that they will not be a slave to the drama that college life can make. But there are those girls, & you can see them coming at you a mile ahead, do not understand the fact that, in college you have to grow up. I see in girls I don't like, I hang out with, and yes even myself. I confess that at one point in time I, too, put my part in the never ending cycle of drama at Bennett.

I often times would see a girl and not like her immediately. But I can say that I have changed and hopefully will continue to change as I finish out my education. Now, I can tolerate a person for as long as I allow. But I still have some time to go on. I still believe that every person in this world, in some way contributes to the pain and drama they endure in their life. Some people, though they don't know it, attracts the one thing that gives them pain. So as long as I am me, I refuse to be a slave to drama and I will continue to grow up and work on me.

The Poem of The Week

2009-04-09T23:35:00.000-07:00

1st Post Ever!!

2009-04-09T23:24:00.000-07:00

Hello and welcome to A Belle's Prospective!

I, first, want to say thank you for coming and viewing something that I really want to work. Secondly, I just want to say that I created this blog to speak my mind and hopefully find people out there who actually agreed with my views. I do not mean to offend anyone or make anyone mad, I just want to speak my mind. I created this blog for the soul propose of letting people understand my views on world events, entertainment, and family issues as well as telling my story, my way. I am a devoted Christain but I will oppose my views about religion on anyone who reads my blogs.