beautiful words from friends/family etc…

A beautiful poem by Donesha Thompson. In this poem, Donesha shares what she calls a fleeting thought: “when life gets tough and burdensome, remember, burdens are not for us to have …

Plant yourself into the grainy sands of the captivating sea shore.
Toss your pennies abroad and watch them let gravity open the door.
Dive in to see if you can then find them in the murky waters.
Senseless to think you’d find any traces of copper.
Gentle waves bring you to an abrupt stop because you’re now relaxed by them.
You let nature engulf you, and you forget life is grim.


photography from stock.xchng



Donesha Thompson&RH Ramsey

When young, I waited for my treasures: my crowning glory – my body’s miraculous rite of passage – key to womanhood –
I’d examine them in the mirror, non-existent, hidden under a sweatshirt with a hood

I watched them scrupulously
I wondered what they would be …

Tiny diamond tear drops – like the older girls at school? Mangos – like those of my older sisters? Mountains majestic, like those of the women on my mother’s side of the family?
Anxiously, I waited, and it seemed that overnight, like two gifts, they came to be

I finally had them, and for awhile, I walked with my head held high.
And soon, I giggled as my little sisters and their friends poked out their chests and waited for their own buds to form and rise

Years passed …

Wedding gowns …

Miracles were born …

Appointments missed

Family came first …
And suddenly, these treasures were no longer treasures – these lumps – were my curse

It couldn’t be more real…but I refuse to accept this – aimless – I am walking into my own destiny..resenting it with every fading piece of me. Why me? Why a lump? A cut? An incision? Excision?

No happiness lives here…his face is blank, and already, my face has disapeared into history..a procedure does not calm or ease the hurricane casting down on my home -my family

I have already begun to be yanked from the arms of my loved ones, who have no idea…

When our hearts meet, their spirits will cry for me in the wee hours of the night…

This is a kill shot of agony thru the depths of my soul..

For how can I reason with such a serial killer?

My despair has caused me to forget the fighter and winner – the conqueror that I am…

I can’t let the enemy win…my flesh may be dying but my energy and hunger for survival will not…

it is with my children and those who will never cast me out of memory..I will live on and I am strong…

No serial killer, no hurricane, no more of me will fade; let me enjoy these moments; let the sunlight dance upon me

I am majestic, a diamond, a rose, a treasure … I will live on

Here is my updated about page.

Here are some beautiful quotes; I hope you enjoy them as much I did!  🙂 

I firmly believe every book was meant to be written.- Marchette Chute

I have been successful probably because I have always realized that I knew nothing about writing and have merely tried to tell an interesting story entertainingly.- Edgar Rice Burroughs

A best seller was a book which somehow sold well simply because it was selling well.- S. Boorstein

Either a writer doesn’t want to talk about his work, or he talks about it more than you want.- Anatole Broyard

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.- Douglas Adams

There are two kinds of writer: those that make you think, and those that make you wonder.- Brian Aldiss

The story…must be a conflict, and specifically, a conflict between the forces of good and evil within a single person.- Maxwell Anderson

The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this notion rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn’t require any.- Russell Baker

It took me fifteen years to discover I had no talent for writing, but I couldn’t give it up because by that time I was too famous.- Robert Benchley

Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. Most people don’t see any.- Orson Scott Card

Why do writers write? Because it isn’t there.- Thomas Berger



As I focus a bit more on speaking positively, and thinking positively, I think about the importance of good friends and healthy relationships. Here are some beautiful quotes about friendship. I hope you enjoy!:

  • “Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies” [Aristotle]
  • “Friendship makes prosperity more brilliant, and lightens adversity by dividing and sharing it” [Cicero De Amicitia]
  • “Friendship admits of difference of character, as love does that of sex” [Joseph Roux Meditations of a Parish Priest]
  • A new friend is like new wine; you do not enjoy drinking it until it has matured —Ben Sira
  • A new friend is a new wine —The Holy Bible/Apocrypha
  • Without a friend the world is a wilderness —John Ray’s Proverbs
  • An acquaintanceship, if all goes well, can linger in the memory like an appealing chord of music, while a friendship, or even a friendship that deteriorates into an enemyship, so to put it, is like a whole symphony, even if the music is frequently unacceptable, broken, loud, and in other ways painful to hear —William Saroyan
  • Became like old friends, the kind who can’t leave each other on deathbeds —Thomas McGuane
  • Early friends drop out, like milk teeth —Graham Greene
  • Friendship ought to be a gratuitous joy, like the joys recorded by art or life —Simone Weil
  • Friendship … should, like a well-stocked cellar, be … continually renewed —Samuel Johnson
  • A friendship that like love is warm; a love like friendship steady —Thomas Moore
  • He who helps a friend in woe is like a fur coat in the snow —Russian proverb
  • I keep my friends as misers do their treasure —Pietro Aretino


You are not afraid

a poem by Donesha T


 I enjoyed watching you hold something so special and leaving yourself as if you had drifted away in a summer breeze.

 You had nothing to say, and all you did was try best to hold your excitement in, for fear that you may lose your mind.

 You could not imagine that in a split second, you would find yourself loving something more than you loved yourself. Of course, you always found it hard to do so; your ego was what kept you on your toes all this time.

 Your eyes began to glisten as you realized the time had come to leave the elementary stages behind, and find a better you; not for you, but for them.

 You are not afraid to be gentle in the wee hours of the night to deliver comfort when no one else in the world is there — just you and your little creation, cuddled and finding peace.

 You are not afraid to talk a different type of talk, contradicting your masculinity, because they humble you.

 You are so proud as you watch the progression in such profound phases; nothing else in the world matters.

 You don’t realize yet that this is what true men live for: their legacy, and the lessons in life they have passed on. Not the material gain or remnants of heir-looms, but the time and grace of what passes on generation after generation.

 You are not afraid to carry the things necessary to keep your joy clean and fed, over your shoulder, close to your heart…some would feel ashamed, or ask others to do so, but not you. You are not afraid.

 Neither are you afraid to confront, nor dismiss your authoritative voice, because you know how to set things straight with a a gentle nudge.

 The things you let go are miniscule, but the things you explore mean something.

 You are not afraid to admit when you are wrong, and go up to bat to make things right.

 Oh what a man you are!  We need more men like you; you are what true men are made of.

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

“You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.”
Maya Angelou

(The way one strong woman interprets Still I rise)
“Well….I have never had a group of ‘haters’ around me, but that poem reminds me of my challenge/battle against satan…he is always trying to supress an depress me…he wants me to droop with my head to the ground…but I refuse…no matter what he throws at me…ugh.

When I think of the well that I have in my’s my family..they drive me nuts…but they are precious…when I think of the diamonds at the meeting of my thighs….that’s the power and the miracle that helped my gremlins; I mean miracles to get here

Life is hard but its fair…so unless I’m dead I will rise…”

~Donesha T~