Truth

Prone to apprehension increase your comprehension

Son of a prophet selling your soul to market

Surrender your identity to media exploitation the rotation continues with each imitation.

Blasphemous. Art is life but what’s dead can’t be recreated when the craft is in slippery hands.

In God we trust. Slandering innocence upon dividends dining on their diligence bastardizing citizens: these are your politicians.

Snakes in the grass attacking the mass onslaught of unsuspecting. Oblivious to the neglecting until its shoved in our faces.

Switch places with the unawares out of obscurity temporarily advertising our own purity

When the system is biased to protect the non-compliant those policymakers bending laws just to break us

We rise then fall swifter than mister could steal a dollar from our pocket we are the American profit

Benefiting from keeping us ignorant brethren we are not. United we can’t be. Plotting on our brothers and pillaging our sisters does not equate a family tree.

Spiritually unaroused stirred feelings reflect nothing of our Creator who made us then saved us only for repetition to condemn them. To end them. Commit them as felons who are we?

Woe to those refusing nourishment suffering self-inflicted perjury the cycle continues. We demonstrate self-hate in different venues.

Whether it be sacrificing our temple to undeserving men, leaving behind no legacy for our children, or counting our value through monetary spending.

Even more ironic is the image of a black man, in a hoodie and timbs although iconic is not my killer. No sir no sir.  

The clean-shaven man in a pinstripe suit my people failed to keep out of office stole my life when none of them voted he elected my existence conditioned no protection. So when my people dismissed the election the ink in his pen signed the dotted line to my death sentence.

I’m walking dead until the marksmen orders my kill. Positioning no place for me in the justice system, my words they can twist them, my people they can symbolically lynch them by sending them to prison.

Statistics don’t lie they don’t like my kind.

 Experimenting diseases on my people, introducing drugs and other evils, numbing our brain cells by hiding education when we’re not even equipped to seek it.  

This is our hell chasing heaven in chariots that are programmed on the wrong path leading to our destruction.

I can’t sit idly by knowing that the golden rims don’t spin for my entertainment this is the arraignment prepared to distract me from protecting my people’s constructions.

Why do my sisters concern themselves with whose prettier when there is a war on our unborn babies. Our  wombs become tombs when they fail to teach us the worth of a lady. Growing up idolizing Barbie dolls who lack our complexion we missed that lesson.

And mothers love your sons with the undying affection that lies in your heart so hopefully they grow to respect what we have to offer, and the cycle stops.

You won’t win my soul by teaching me apathy, America.

You can lie to an entire nation but I see through.

These words that I spit on this stage, and live every day until my last breath is made…is my truth. 

Social Injustice

Troy Davis.

Trayvon Martin.

In a year’s time frame, killing me is the project.

Erasing memories of royalty when my daddy was king and mommy was the queen.

Blurring color lines to define more white less hue less you more waiting for our time.Denying my shine and in the meantime filling my brother’s cranium with titanium bullets.

Scraping together facts but forgetting the artifacts that prove justice, it’s just us.

But am I next?

Having to guard my life from those I pay taxes for to protect me in a country where they neglect me.They signed those bill of lies on the breaking bones of my ancestral family.

My sister excels above the academic standard surpassing her classmates therefore a threat to be handled.

Is she next?

In desperation they’ve began gunning down our children, mocking a race to our face on television networks, and silencing our outcries.

Biblically speaking our fallen may be dead but trust me they will never die.

My educated mother, my strong black mother, my loving tender giving to the world, God fearing mother…is she next?

How many of us may be taken for your outrage to satisfy your thirst for African blood?

How decadent are we that we become morsels, moreso picked off one by one.

Is my chocolate skin appealing to you, devil?

Are my almond shaped eyes and strawberry lips fueling your envy?

Do my voluptuous body and sassy curves entice you?

Well I hate to disappoint but I won’t be sacrificed to you. Remove my body from your altar. Take down your rituals. And embrace my existence even though it’s your nature to resist it.

My people elected a president who set precedent. Decreased unemployment, reversed military deployment, fought the deficit and set the record straight. Encouraged us black kids to go to school and accomplished more goals than all those before him. Thus classified as a snob by the Republican mob.

Tell me, if you dare, is he next?

And here we are. A people of elegance, beauty, and refinement. A people of soul, rhythm, and motion.

And there you are. Jealous, bitter, hateful and distasteful. The most ornery sight I have ever seen.

Sneering at what little my people have due to your greed.

I think I know the answer, it is definitely what it seems.

Tell me, white America…who’s next?

Are we?

Letter to the President

Our sincerest apologies to President Barack Obama on behalf of the ignorant nation you serve.

Not conscious of your platforms white supremacy seems to hold all our concern not those little black babies you seek to uphold and provide future nor will we acknowledge your defeat on terrorism when the Anglo-Saxon couldn’t do it.

See…we’re the Republican Party.

And we’ll argue till blue in the face that we’re tolerant of the colored race our issue is with democracy you’ve got us enraged like how come Common got an invite to the White House?
Better suitable for our taste why not invite Donald Trump out? While his platform is yet developed and his experience nonexistent his skepticism of your birth records instead of healthcare is legitimate.

Excuse us for our ignorance. Questioning your religion, when catholic Kennedy took office yet with YOU black man we go kicking and screaming making no effort to hide our blatantly racist esteem.

That’s just how the cookie crumbles…

We ostracize and we fight every attempt you forge for success and bite our tongues under defeat.
Dividing the House of Representatives so no bill is passed and doodling satanic pictures of you wasting in our seats.

There’s strange fruit in these trees. We’ve rigged a jail system to systematically retrieve your kind so the fact you made it to the White House…we MUST press rewind.

Throw caution to the wind and lay siege to our own economy blocking a stimulus that seems too promising. Let the white, I mean Republicans handle this. Let’s spend more money on weaponry and deny starving kids. Lets cut education (which secretly we ruined anyway) and force our youth to the path of insanity.
Tell them that Switzerland has better math scores and Japan is more efficient in Science so your only option is to fire this rifle on foreign islands. We snuck our grubby fingers in the cookie jar and choked HOPE out of their eyes knowing our tactic is artfully disguised because without college funding, your black students can try but a shot at equal education? EHHHHHH DENIED!

The minority whispers “From the American Dream….I awoke in a sweat” well we’ve got news…you aint seen NOTHING yet.

To protect and serve: NOT the brown, yellow, tan, beige, or red man. Yet our biggest fear has been realized and we’ve been found that all of our arguments aren’t logically sound. Still we push forward digging graves in our backyard killing ourselves slowly off.

Not to mention that we turned against our own citizens and made terrorists of our officials killing children in villages we made sure you never heard of. Pouring cyanide down throats or plundering through bullet holes in skulls hoping to find “intelligence” to justify our murders.

This is the America you open your eyes every morning to protect.
This is the America that would more willingly place rope around your neck.

This is your America that you so passionately wish to fix.
This is your America that to this day denies racism exists.

So I personally apologize on their behalf Mr. President cause I know this has to be the single hardest job there ever was. And I applaud you for not giving up on us.

God Bless.

A Poet's Way of Saying She's Lonely

My most prized possession is hidden under flesh, veins, muscle, and bone.

If my enemy can transcend these entities and uplift my onion layers of ebony I’ll combat him with my soul.

See there’s nothing left to give when the body is gone. Every organ can’t function on its own more importantly my heart needs a pulse.

And without the flow of poetry thriving throughout my ligaments I become addicted to another drug fixating on my dependency hoping to feel that same rush.

But no drug counteracts the high of words smoked from a conscience and blown over nonsense reviving the mentality of otherwise invalids, evaporating into irrelevance.

The only interjection placed here is the comma that reminds me behind my love of spoken word is love itself and my heart doesn’t pulse for merely the sake of health. This is my creation I’ve sheltered it from the world and valued at a rate more precious than gold no man, as deemed by myself, will ever get close.

I’ve placed traps in the aorta and poison in the pulmonary vein in case he was smart enough to escape my maze. The left and right ventricles are shackled to my rib cage as arteries are blocked with cement covered in blood stains.

Too many have tried to take a crack at it and submersed in my complexity become crack addicts fiending for that first taste of my soul. And that, that is the very reason they’ll never ever reach their goal.

I’m too in love with myself to be won over without struggle. Yet sometimes I wonder…when do I ask too much? Or is there such a thing?

I cheated on poetry with the fantasy of loving you. And honestly, love, I’m not ready to encounter you. I get lonely, I do, but the pen has always eradicated my desire. To my surprise the pen spelled your name as if it knew. Trying to tell me that without the full completion of God’s ordinance I can't give myself unto these words entirely. Because I can’t write about something I love without having love inside me.

It’s not as simple as taking off the screws and unlocking the hinge that contracts my beating vessel I have other emotions that will escape if not properly nestled.

I’ve hated a man for so long that I forgot how to spell love or sound out the consonance and I’ve envied other people so hard that I lost myself in their dominance plus I’ve lusted for images of wealth so much that I devalued my common sense while yearning for something so artificial I myself became counterfeit. And none of it cost me more than the freedom of my heart beat.

My most prized possession is hidden under flesh, veins, muscle, and bone.

If my enemy can transcend these entities and uplift my onion layers of ebony maybe I wont combat him with my soul.

Maybe instead….I’ll hand him a stethoscope.

My letter to Love

Can I have that friendship that never ends continually stimulating my intelligence?
I want that power to transcend and amend broken spirits let no harm come near it.
I crave that flavor every time I part my lips of passion and trust a divine designed mix…

I desire that warmth on my skin through which I claim protection shielded from the dagger of untruthful misconceptions…

Too many refer to love as some fleeting emotion or another word to be tossed in our diction. They think of it reality when in proof it is fiction and I refuse to bear the burden of such hideous fallacies interpreting lust for something long-lasting.

If a man can just admire my vision and work in conjunction instead of chase me around for my bodily functions we can share what I truly have to offer that is sweeter than any temporary feeling shared amongst “lovers”.

In his eyes I want to be imperfect and unbalanced so that loving me comes as a challenge and when his prize is won he’ll appreciate my soul that much more because simply sharing that with you has been my life-long goal and I didn’t build myself up…for my value to be annulled.

I looked inside myself and love once told to me.
“The true power in harnessing my beauty is to acknowledge me, practice me, honestly, act on me, represent me, actually, trust me, not factually, faithfully create me, wait on me patiently, hoping that one day LOVE is what you awaken to”….

And I listened….so love whenever you decide to come around let him see the woman and treasure what he’s found….

Take control of our destiny connecting us endlessly and teaching us relentlessly for there is no force as strong as you….

I want to cover myself in you from head to toe and show everyone my outfit of compassion. Drench me from my hair follicles to the edges of my toe nails so that wearing love in its entirety becomes fashion

Can I have you and keep you under my rib cage so that if you were to ever part from me I’d collapse internally withering away my days? I want you so deeply rooted in me that love assumes my identity and they’ll assume my character your name….

I guess what I’m asking is….when the time comes….can it never go away….Love….I’ll take your good, your bad, and I’ll vehemently endure your pain….until then I humbly and patiently wait…

What I've been up to...

I know I haven't posted much as of late....I apologize.

I've been working at a store called Justice (Northpoint Mall) saving up money for this thing called L.I.F.E

I've also been volunteering heavily with Cool Girls, Inc.

I mentor young girls at Coan Middle School as well as Clifton Elementary School. They are an AWESOME group. Love you girls =)

I've also been interning with the same organization, Cool Girls, helping to update files and organize information, etc.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I have NEW PIECES for you all to read as well.

I've been volunteering with Conscious Collective as well (We have BIG things planned for GSU)

So far I've been accomplishing all I set out to do.

If you missed my performance on campus last semester and missed my performance again on January 26th don't fret I have more shows!

February 11th, 2011 Urban Life Building 5pm
February 17th, 2011 Rialto Center
Georgia State's Annual "Black Affair" (TBA)

Stay tuned for my NEW SPOKEN WORLD MATERIAL!!!

Be blessed. I'm back on the grind =)

RICH BLOOD

The Pharaoh had a tomb as grand as my smile as golden as my skin and strong as my mind.

The King had a castle as rich as my blood as tall as my soul and brown as my skin tone.

The Emperor had a palace as wondrous as my laugh as mystical as my eyes and breathtaking as my craft.

Words were my armor, metaphors my weapon, intonation my deflection forcing enemies the opposite direction.

I am the Queen, the Empress, the Pharaoh’s Goddess.

Dressed in gold from head to toe nothing about my garment says modest.

Rightfully so as I've bared this cross too long to be disrespected carrying the weight of a people awaiting its resurrection.

Restoration after deflation by the efforts of our nation; a place we built by bondage without hesitation to forget the equality of man.

Doomed to erode like the beach's sand time erases our faces leaving the smirk of the white man.But here's what I don't understand.

How I can go from a Goddess, a Queen, an Empress to a slave, inhuman, inferior not even a being.

They ripped my flesh from the bone letting my blood flood the land nurturing the trees that make leaves grow red.

When the wind blows you can feel my ashes. I too was crucified next to Jesus listening to the laughter of the ethnocentric people and the fascist neo-Nazi’s with their built up evils.

They mocked my crown as royal I was beat me down and stole my self-worth mocked my country Oh Mother Africa, how they belittle you so. Making piss pots of the grounds I would call home.

Now they tear apart this man leading the country we built. Reversing the years to the grave of Emmett Till, I can feel the Klu Klux Klan breathing through my window sill.

And they tell me we live in a post-racial society. The election of a black man was done at our hands if left to the Europeans he’d still be held captive.

Excuse me if I’ve given up hope. Our education, our political system, our health care, our judicial jurisdiction, our laws, our Senate, our Nation is pitted AGAINST us.

What am I to do but look for my long lost crown and pray my Queendom returns?

Aspire that my sons and daughter’s will assume the royal throne and be the God’s and Goddesses that once controlled what we owned.

My palace was dismantled left to be handled and divided by the Republican conquerors covered in their scandals; my poor sacred land left in shambles.

The dust of dollar signs settles on the mound of my dreams, a deformed byproduct of their hate-filled schemes.

You can’t tell me not to be angry!

The poison has gone so far as to corrode the minds of my brothers.

They chase white women, Chinese women, anything that refuses the memory of Black mothers.

They turn from tradition and empathize their own institutionalization.

Ignoring the truth and running from realizations that they are Black men with responsibilities.

They are Princes, King’s, Pharaohs, Godly beings.

They leave the womb neglecting their destiny from birth as we Queen’s are left to take care of sick mother earth.

I’m not generalizing what you hear is the truth. So many throw away futures to emulate musical tunes. They are pretty boys now no longer strong men. Concerned with swag instead of being genuine.

They smash, grab, and dash damaging the image of their Queen’s yet our Goddess’s act like the trash on the videos they’ve seen.

Warped mentality from slavery and civil rights to the passive-aggressive prejudice in the Obama-McCain fights.

We’re too ignorant to realize the noose on our necks we’re about to be hung gasping for breathe, caste unto death, question of our intellect, loss of respect as if we ever had it.

Too numb, too dumb, to content to be run by a people who consistently plot our demise. Why is my skin color such a burning flame in the white man’s eyes?

If anything it should be the diamonds in my crown, the elegance of my smile, the authority in my voice, or strength of my soul…

I am a Goddess, a Queen, an Empress, now kiss the FEET of you’re Pharaoh.

Transgression of identity the theft of Mnemosyne

Titanic power ancient Greek, rituals of the past that future seeks.

While with each life that lingers on words I speak creep through my esophagus on my tongue lies their feet.

The trails of my ancestors the gift that repeats.

Spoken into the air unabashed truths mixed with the caress of their lies,

peeling back the tedious skins until naked flesh is exposed by time.

But....what entity am I?

That conforms against will remaining yet the same shifting and morphing each day the SAME shape.

Contradictions and conflictions label each day.

Trapped in a matrix that is unforgiving and malicious,

cultivating each blood cell until the vile is filled.

My body a mere skeleton; a vapor of human will.

What comes to pass in the death of man?

That he created fate in the doing of his own hands...

What works will be my demise?

Will it come prematurely or delayed far behind?

Is there power in my existence or am I merely livid?

If the body is absent what imprint was ever given?

Quest untitled. everything is unknown and unwritten.

I can only relinquish the thoughts of my heart, the purity of my sin, the visions of my mind, and stages I've been.

So take what YOU see....

what came to mind when you thought of me?

The time has come!!!

School is starting!!!

Since school will be starting in less than a week I took it upon myself to go out and search for ways to get textbooks for cheap. Here are the links:

http://www.chegg.com/

http://www.abebooks.com/

http://www.half.com/

http://www.amazon.com/

Hope these links help you! Email me if you find other websites! Happy Hunting!

Fathom

The process of thought, relentless intent
Led my journey to reach my mind's extent

I...prevent any detours staying focused.

However life was the better opponent.

My attention spent elsewhere in places I've never dreamed

Where goals were set for yesterday for they had all been achieved.

Irrevocably trapped without escape.

Doomed and destined to wander the maze.

A chapter yet written, a book yet closed....

My mouth plugged with stone my mind full of gold.

On the tombstone it read....

Here lies her intelligence....never used....became dead.

-Cammy G

32 day countdown

I know everyone's been anxiously awaiting the return of college. Alas, we have 32 days my friends. However things are changing, in my opinion, for the better.

1. First thing, I'll be working more heavily with my internship at Cool Girls, Inc.

2. On top of that, I now have to pay for my books and phone bill which requires a J.O.B

3. I've joined Conscious Collective on campus (A black arts organization that showcases all forms of talent within the GSU black community.)

4. I'm in a show! "Exspose: The Underground Truth" I perform Aug 28th at 595 North in downtown atlanta. Tickets are $10!

5. I plan on doing some study abroad work probably in Spain. Teaching spanish children the english language.

6. I'm also helping charter a new chapter of the Optimist group on campus. This group is a community service based organization that focuses on providing positive structures in the lives of youth.

Needless to say, I'm going to be VERY busy. All of this must be maintained as well as nothing below a 3.5 gpa. I'm claiming it now! I'm on my way to do bigger and better things. What are YOUR pans for Fall 2010?

Underground Tunes: PAY ATTENTION

HOT UNDERGROUND ARTISTS!!!

Musical Mentality

Derived from the roots of the original fruit

that blooms the ignorance of man

I take poverty in my left hand and...

Combine it in marriage to lackluster might in my right.

Perfectly joined in sickness and HOPING for health

Dealt the cards with skull & bones amounting themselves in financial wealth.

The life of a man is expensive to the rich....but given an inner-city perspective

It comes a dime a dozen with a steady pitch.

Can you hear the sound of a dying breed?

Consensual to perish watching themselves bleed?

So when I create rhymes, verses, hooks, or whatever

THAT goes towards my muscial mentality see...

Parallel to demonic satanism we

blatantly disobey yet expect payment from him

as if we're owed...sinking in our own pitiful boat.

Yet we can achieve and be better than he that put us here

where misery...loves company.

The obvious= Barack Hussein Obama

The predeccessors=Malcolm X and others.

The future=ME

I can't speak for you and yours but regarding my socio-economic status hard work is

the remedy.

So when I'm coming at you musically best believe thats MY musical mentality.

The rock of my world the hemoglobin of my soul are the lives around me that keep

my life full.

You can't tell me to fail. Cursed with this desire of insatiable appetite its impossible

that I wont prevail.

Education seeks to that. My family seeks to that. My God seeks to that. And even

the

people that have my back.

It's not even tangible for me to grant you sight into the light that guides MY life.

As long as I live I promise to be free.

Rid of insecurity, ignorance, stereotypes, and misconceptions of me.

Please understand when the mic's in my hand, I bring THIS to my musical mentality.

Push the garbage to the corner and lock your mind from the stench

Cause those false all-star players are destined for the bench

When your concern is intended for the monetary gratification you'll never have my ear.

No limitation fathomable could trap me to be there.

I chase everlasting vitality because thats my muscial mentality.

I don't have a title.

See....we're stuck in a state of paralysis where the analysis is opposed to what reality is...

But..no one comprehends nor makes amends regarding our sins.

What you don't know is...

I'm using the illusatory nature of language to contort your notions...

Those facetious things that birth impetous intentions.

I wish not to receive them and those that adorn them are beneath it.

With the blood of my people, I've committed great acts...yet...

We stumble through the earth a byproduct of the past.

Bequeath yourself of unoble tendencies and align the traits with thee a great leader.

I don't mean to assume the character that boasts her intelligence but the more I write this gets deeper.

It's not about the stacks, cash, bones, and dubs but

my driven motivation sees that I qualify to collect all the above

So what have you done?

Because though we share the brown skin

I refuse to admit a failure as my kin

Morally insurrect and mentally suspect you are no bloodline of mine

And it's time the world recognizes

What you see by association of our color is not a representation of my sister or my brother.

Those idiotic symbols are the canvas of mediocrity...

yet my people are a beautiful thing...we....are a masterpiece.

Summer Styles; Hollywood Edition

As some of you may know I have a birthday coming up [AUGUST 21st]

For those of you who have summer birthdays such as myself, or just like to go out and dress up and look pretty, I have a template!!!

Cute dress from Forever 21 with these

Christian Loubiton heel boots. Of course you can add bulky and chunky jewelry for the accessories. Bracelets and large earrings work well also.

This dress also comes from Forever 21 and the heel is actually Gucci. A long chain type of necklace and dangling earrings seem best for the outfit. A bold ring on the hand also compliments the attire.

This dress comes from Charlotte Reusse and the heel is again Christian Loubiton. I like the decoration of the heel mself. Jewelry that compliments are large stone bracelets that resemble that of the heel decoration. A nice hooped necklace would also fit well.

Click the Picture to start shopping online

War: Please view the video then read my poem

When your political system becomes the enemy, as politicians feel your lives are beneath them

And confrontation results in the casualty of your freedom...is War ever worth it?

If the health of the children, sanity of the parents, morality of the masses became less apparent...

is War ever worth it?

Utilize the knowledge they hide in darkness

Seek with your eyes the pride of involvement

But...run the risk of solitude; everpresent silence.

Your voice but a whisper among bloody sirens.

Ask yourself....is War EVER worth it?

Destitue nations beg at our heels our own people are poor yet we can afford oil spills.

Children are molested and mothers are gashed as each day progresses but must I ASK if this is real?

War is not worth it.

Because you can look in the eyes of a dying body and see nothing but the cost of the death you're qualified to run my country. Economic policy to deploy and committ robbery of cultural identities and destroy other's property all in the name of "democracy".

I won't participate in this race to hate and eliminate oddities that don't equate or won't assimilate to our state yet choose to debate rather than demonstrate that fate but its too late to negate overrated mandates.

That's what we're built off of. The poison of greed and stench of pride while starving countries are denied by our kind...

Disgusted as I am with our political system subconsciously I guiltily plea to my role.

I too have sinned and by no means can cast the first stone.

However, you must remember WHO sits at the throne and GAVE us this home.

Because....when alls said and done we'll be buried so far under our riches

as we watch those same hungry people able to ascend across bridges and meet...His Holy presence.

And OH HOW ironic it will be....that when we reach His face he asks

"Was war ever worth it....that it kept you from Me?"

Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden fruit grows on temptous trees

As I mingle myself in the lustrous breeze
Entangle my values with things I don't need
Reach...for the fruit amidst these things
I fall under and drown in the motions
Until the last breathe evaporates leaving me potent
No longer falling from grace we have fallen
Time is upon us to answer our calling

Deep inside I feel wronged an injustice done me
But silent I remain keeping my heart in chains letting insecurity run free
Trust is unknown my perspectives been tainted
I can only see whats not there and only if I've made it.
So this is the price of forbidden fruit eaten
I choose to put it down and unwalk the path beaten

If not respected my efforts go squandered
Until with each experience I grow stronger
This is my wish that I can attain that dream
But until then I sit, ponder, and scheme.
Forbidden fruit grows on temptous trees.

Cooking with Cammy

So the other day I made some DELICIOUS chicken stew. It was amazing I had to share it with everyone. For those who can't cook this is perfect and easy.

Ingredients:

• 10 chicken drumsticks.
• 4 stalks of celery
• 8 organic carrots
• 1 green onion
• 1 Vidalia Onion
• 1 bag of red potatoes
• 2 bell peppers [1 red and 1 green for color]
• 1 small bag of brown rice
• 2 boxes of chicken broth

Spices:

• Rosemary
• Chili Powder
• Curry
• Oregano
• Basil
• Season Salt
• Pepper
• Italian Seasoning
• Salt
• Garlic Powder
• Onion Powder

Tools:

• 1 Large pot
• 1 skillet
• 1 knife
• 1 wooden spoon
• 1 pair of tongs
• 1 Large Bowl

Make sure you prep everything before you start cooking meaning: have your vegetables chopped and sliced before doing anything. The onions, carrots, bell peppers, and celery can all be roughly chopped. Not too chunky but not too thin.

1. Heat up the skillet as well as the pot. A small half-inch slice of butter in each. Remember keep the heat low!
2. Season the chicken drumsticks in the bowl with all the spices. Make sure to use your hands and toss the chicken [like you would a salad] to ensure the seasoning covers as much as possible. Use small handfuls of each seasoning. DON'T OVER DO IT!
3. Place the drumsticks in the skill [you wont be able to fit all of them in at once]. Turn the heat up a little bit
4. As the chicken cooks, throw the vegetables in the big pot. Let them soften before adding the chicken broth. To the broth add a few shakes of season salt, pepper, and curry.
5. As the chicken browns put it inside the pot. Once all the drumsticks are done let them simmer in the pot.
6. Add the rice last inside the pot. Now leave the pot alone, clean up your mess, and let everything come together.
7. Check the pot approximately 1 hour to 1 hour and 45 minutes later.
   
   
   

There you go! Fresh chicken stew! Yummy!

BLACK is the color of Passion

When things can be born again out of ash it is one more time I must ask...what is passion's color?

Some depict red with hues of scorching heat that burns and fuels until hell and earth greet.

Concerning me? ....I believe..passion IS black!

It is deep and unknown, stripping the eye until sight is what you lack....empty and without fullness desiring to be filled in.

Quiet and nervous passion IS black!

All secrets are held within mysterious and unforgiving until souls are taken aback. PASSION...without a doubt or question IS BLACK!

Black is beautiful crowned with the gems of coal. Royal among others in its dissertations yet bold.

Elegant and relentless healing to unwanted time, letting us forget the pain in our minds.

If we LOVE it theres no need to understand.

Simply our willingness to be encompassed in the dark sultry sense, and trust our steps without hands.

Passion IS black!

There could be no refute, the ignorant remain mute, and the rest can hang loose!

White is a surrender until cowardice is rendered and tails go tucked between legs.

Yellow is unhealthy and laid back. Lazy with no heed to whats being said.

And blue?.....that's depression..blue....is the color....of DEATH.

We can talk about purple, orange, green, whatever you like.

But not ONE color defines passion such as black.

THAT'S my desire.

THAT'S my lust.

Makes me reach higher in the benefit of "us".

Yes....black IS the color of passion.