Mind Race

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Her mind is

Overstimulated

Constantly chasing

Racing to the

Next conclusion

To trip over

Falling into

The depths of

Her gaping thoughts

Clinging tightly to

Her collection of

Forget-me-nots

Cushioned by an

Assemblage of

Love knots

For she loves not

Because they forgot

What it means

Now she only aches

To be free

In her dreams

xoxo,

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Our children are our future

Dominic&Me

Our children are the beauty of the future, they are receptacles of the love & knowledge we give them so we must remember to give it abundantly. There is great power in being equipped with a hearty education (worldly & formally) and bountiful love. Our children deserve this, as does the future of humanity.

I was blessed to have a chance to visit & spend time with my chubby wubby nephew after reading to the kiddos at Hope Academy and it filled my heart with hope and love. 💕

xoxo,

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About last night

Fi&GabUnion

About last night…

Hmm. Where do I begin?

Drifting from room to room

Staring truth in the face

Before gulping it down

Liquid courage to keep up the pace

Floating in my mind

Drowned in thoughts

Of keeping composure

As I stare Oprah in the face

Shake her hand, Fionna. Introduce yourself,

Your work, get a grip, smile,

Not too much, not too little, focus…

Still, a blurred moment in time

When dreams blend with reality

Let me gather my self

Gather my thoughts

This moment is mine

I glide through the party

Smiles & conversations shared with

Common, Union, Alba, and DuVernay

Progressions and connections is the only way

Navigating the scene

To assure being seen

Creating a new space

To inaugurate the words beyond my face

xoxo,

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Un-love Story

lovedrown

He came from little, was witness to the most heinous catastrophes. He always had to fight to survive, so his world was cold and cruel. The son of devoutly religious parents who weren’t afraid to use the name of God to justify their inflictions of pain. A nurturing, yet detached mother and a heavy-handed, laborer father. The couple who made sure they nearly lived in the church, only creating confusion in their children who were preached to about God and love but that lived a much harsher reality. This was a somber and consequential family with a deadpan demeanor.

She came from wealth, where silver platters were abundant, and there was always someone to do the dirty work. Household duties were the jobs of maids, not a wife. Alas, there was dysfunction brewing in the love she was taught. The truth remained, children learned most by what they saw, not what they were told. That’s been true since the beginning of time and will forever remain so. The daughter to a nurturing, yet detached mother and a fun, loving father whose whimsical disposition was too often lost at the bottom of his angry, violent whiskey bottle. Another devoutly religious family always searching for hope in the darkness. Nevertheless, there was no shortage of celebration and helping those in need. This was a compassionate, devoted family with a jovial demeanor.

Two broken people with steep love deficits, seeking someone to complete them and fill their voids without understanding the truth about love.

He built something out of nothing and was living a dream when it came to material things. All he needed was a wife and children to complete the vision of perfection he created in his mind.

She was drowning in hopelessness with her current over-bearing situation, feeling trapped by her roots and desperately needing an escape. All she needed was a knight in shining armor to rescue her and take her to ecstasy, the way she dreamed her life would be.

And just as the saying goes, “timing is everything.”

They crossed paths at a time that would later prove to be catastrophic. But, in that moment, they thought it was the timing of saving grace.

A misrepresentation, an impostor, lost in translation… literally and figuratively. A tragedy unfolding…in love.

To be continued…

xxoo,

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Fionnastankface

Beautiful Year

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May today mark the beginning of a beautiful journey, a flourishing year to come.

Love more, hate none. Smile often, you never know who will soar in it. Give unconditionally but don’t give because you feel obligated or you’ll become resentful. Only give what your heart feels unattached to.

Let 2015, and every year after, be beautiful.

xo,
Fionna Writes

The invisible

rich_poor

As beautiful and alluring as people are, we are also flawed and scarred reflecting our pain and perceptions onto the world. And in doing so, we make this world a complicated place to live in.

There is such mystery in every eye I meet, every guarded soul I feel but we have learned that sharing our heart isn’t free. It costs someone’s time and requires an interested and listening ear, and that’s too expensive these days. People have neither the time nor the interest in those who have no benefit to him.

What about the woman who empties the airport trash? She works swiftly but quietly, trying to remain invisible as not to disrupt the waiting passengers. I’ll bet in her silence and solitude, she has soaked up a wealth of information from passerbys and from overhearing conversations of those who don’t even acknowledge her existence. Or maybe she’s so caught up in her own life and woes, that she just goes through the motions everyday gliding from trash can to trash can, emptying the days burdens, secrets, and discarded thoughts. She works long hours and goes unnoticed, but without her the airports would tell our filthy truths.

I wonder if she understands more than the busy businessman how lonely our world is, or if he understands just as well as she does when he cuddles with his money at night. Maybe he just puts up a front and isn’t as blind as he seems. Maybe he understands clearly the depths of loneliness that come with being invisible. He might understand that in his world, he is equated with a dollar sign. The quality of his life is directly related to how much money people think he has… Meaning, those in his circle who he pretends are his closest allies are only there to reap the benefits. And if one day he was stripped of all his wealth, he would be like the trash lady. Alone. Stuck picking up the filthy truths of his once “closest” peers.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t acknowledge her existence. So many of us don’t acknowledge her. Maybe we are afraid to catch trash-picker-itis… If we look at her, we’ll have that life. Or maybe we’re worried that if we let her know we see her, she’ll unload her life’s problems onto us and look for handouts. What a burden that would be, a nuisance even!

Or maybe, just maybe, we will brighten her day and let her know she matters in this world. She may even feel inspired by it. And we all know what a little love & inspiration can do.

Smile freely. Those who need it most will always appreciate it more than you may ever know.

xoxo,
Fionna Writes

Us

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The controversy

Of diversity

An unnecessary adversity

A puzzle to my mind

That peace we cannot find

Leaving hatred to define

Us

The segregated

The aggravated

The extricated

Masses from different classes believing

We’re nothing alike, but how deceiving

‘Cause in the end we’re all grieving

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“Young, Bold, and Regal” Blogger Evan Jackson interviews author/poet Fionna Wright

It was an honor for me to be interviewed by this freelancer-turned-independent blogger and writer, Evan Jackson. His blog “Young, Bold and Regal” highlights women with a purpose, mainly in the creative arts. Through this blog, we are heard and appreciated and recognized for our crafts, and for our story. Thank you Evan for your support, and for finding my work notable!

Everyone, please follow and support Evan’s blog and work, he is serving a purpose that is much needed in a world where women are generally objectified and only seen, not heard. The links to his blog and social media sites can be found right under the interview link! Thank you, enjoy!

For full interview, click HERE

To follow and support Evan Jackson and his endeavors, please click and add, like, follow, and share his sites which are listed below:

Young, Bold, and Regal’s Facebook:  Young, Bold, and Regal

xoxo,

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