Our Pavilion of Love Calls
By Te’Kia Miller
Our pavilion of love is calling.
So often we lose ourselves in the daily.
Running on repeat, routine becomes
A mechanized overlord.
Before you know it, we’ve taken each other for granted,
Settled into a level of complacency instead of comfort.
But on this day, consecrated for love and lovers,
Let’s forget the mundane and routine.
Set aside battle tested weapons.
Remove the armor we fight in everyday.
Put your shield away beloved king,
I’m your precious queen, not your enemy.
Our pavilion of love is calling.
We have come to rendezvous again
In this sacred place bathed in candle light, warm and intimate.
Quiet is the moment when time stills its hand
As we come face to face and soul to soul.
Tonight is another memento for eternity to hold.
Our love is older than ancient,
An eternal bond our spirits long foretold.
We move as though unsure of our familiarity.
But the touch of your wanting gaze
And the speech of your delicate touch
Is not mistaken for that of my king who I cherish.
The speech of my smoldering gaze
And the touch of my desirous kiss
Is not mistaken for that of your queen who you treasure.
Fidelity has branded us for one another
So that neither heart nor eye
Have lusted for any other.
Our love is older than ancient.
Our pavilion of love is calling.
When time looks away
Desire storms to life in your eyes.
Deep within me wildfire erupts into a blaze
And the space between us collapses to fond embrace.
Because to have and to hold each other for a lifetime
Is divine pleasure.
So in our pavilion of love,
When time looks away,
Let’s restore proper acquaintance
Between king and queen
Submerged in love’s tidal waves
That will echo for days.
2024.
In The Land of Enchanted Ebony Sand
In The Land of Enchanted Ebony Sand
By Te’Kia Miller
The Queen of Night has risen with
The praise of her subjects for us.
They stud the indigo velvet sky
With their jovial glee, and she,
In all her glory bestows on us
Robes of silver.
Moving as luminous shadows
In a land of enchanted ebony sand,
Our laughter mingles with roaring
Dark ocean waves.
Your golden heart, dear king, serenades to me
Just as the ocean calls us
To splash and swing in the spray.
Where is worry? Or where is stress to ride high?
They have died here this blessed night
By the slay of your intent.
You intended to drive away my stress.
You intended to have me alone and to yourself.
And your intent is made clear, even now.
When at last we calm down from the joyous high,
Something changes in the atmosphere.
Even in the deep of the night
There can be no hiding
From intentions now residing.
Lightning is conjuring in your eyes
And fire brews until it blazes in mines.
Beloved King, you have bewitched this queen
With such a delight as peace on secluded beach.
You have bewitched me already
By the ardent desire in your eyes.
2024.
New Endeavors
Hello readers and fellow bloggers!
My intermittent time on the blog has not been lost on me. When I started my first blog, I wrote almost every day. I was in college then and had A LOT MORE time than I have now. Inspiration came easy, like breathing air. These days, it seems to be a strange thing and this has become a very uncomfortable sense for me. I still make time for writing, it’s just harder to do these days, especially when using creativity in other creative hobbies. Creative writing has always been my passion and still is. I have noticed that the tide of inspiration and the level of excitement has either changed or it isn’t what it used to be. In either case, I have recently found myself wanting to not only return to that great level of inspiration and excitement but I’ve also found that I want to have both of those on a greater level.
I have recently found myself searching for ways to increase the creative flow with the hope that it’ll jumpstart my writing to a level that is greater than before. I find myself actively looking for ways to be open to inspiration and I believe that recent stress and lack of having sufficient alone time have both played a part in the current state I find myself in. I think also a certain level of jadedness has shown itself, which was something I didn’t think would happen in my endeavor to become a published author. I’m learning that in the pursuit of one’s dream, they have to guard against jadedness and cynicism. It can be easy to fall into when rejection is the main song being sung. One must find other ways to achieve their dream, even if it doesn’t look like how they envisioned it. This is also something else I’m learning.
In the meantime, while I continue to pursue my dream, creativity must continue. In my time away from this blog I have taken up learning Wing Chun Kung Fu. I’ve always wanted to get back into martial arts and so when I found an opportunity to learn a fighting system I have never heard of but was interested, I took the opportunity. I’ve been learning Wing Chun Kung Fu coming up on two years now and love it.
I have faltered a little bit but still maintain that I’m learning to play the alto sax. I played when I was in middle school and even taught myself with much practice and a handy playing book. So I figured I’d teach myself again and if I choose to do so, I can supplement with lessons. I have yet to supplement with lessons.
My most recent endeavor is starting a store on Zazzle to earn passive income from my creativity. It’s named for a brand I’ve been thinking about creating called Ever Prolific Muse. When thinking of what to call my store the word ‘muse’ kept coming to me. I think it’s a great way to express the idea of inspiration. It was also perfect since inspiration is something I’ve been struggling with as I stated above. Back when I wrote alot, I remember a fellow blogger saying that I was prolific and I didn’t know what that meant so I looked it up, lol. So when thinking about the brand name, I thought using ‘prolific’ would be perfect because the definition of that word I think embodies this idea that our inspiration (our muse) generates so much all the time.
Ever Prolific Muse is my way of reminding myself that inspiration is all around, it’s always present, and always generating. We just have to make sure that we’re paying attention.
So what I do is design on blank products with my own creations. Some of these creations are drawings/doodles (I’m by no means a skilled artist so they look cartoonist and/or imperfect in my opinion but hey), random photos that I’ve taken of things that I think are odd/beautiful/awe-striking/ etc., Other designs I have in mind are my personal sayings, thoughts, personal slogans, my inspiring messages, and my messages that challenge us (me included). As I am also a Christian, there may very well also be faith-based messages that will inspire and challenge.
Some products are already up in the store and there will be more releases in the coming week(s). You can visit my Zazzle store at: https://www.zazzle.com/store/ever_prolific_muse
So far the plan is to give it a try for at least a year and see how things go. When I first started Wing Chun, I was a little unsure about it. I’d never heard of it before but doing some research I found that Bruce Lee began his training in Wing Chun by Grandmaster Yip Man. I was familiar with both of these men and so I thought: Well heck, yeah! Let me try this. After my first session, I liked it and decided I’d stick with it. I’m glad I did. I hope this endeavor and others to come in the future will have the same response of “I’m glad I did”. Even if, in the end, it doesn’t work out (and I’m saying it won’t!) I still want to be able to say: I’m glad I did. ‘Cause at that point at least I tried and gave it time.
So anyway, that’s a quick update. I hope to have more writings on this blog in the future but no promises! I’m still hangin’ out with ya’ll even though it’s been a lengthy time away before I posted Days of Blister. Keep checkin’ in to this blog and check out Ever Prolific Muse at the link above.
Peace and blessings ya’ll!
Days of Blister
Days of Blister By Te’Kia Miller These are the days of blister, Stuck in a heat wave so mad and sinister. We mere mortals cry in vain From the sweltering of our skin. The agony becomes unbearable As the sensation of being cooked in an oven Intensifies with every move we make. Beads of sweat form and break on the distressed brows And run rivers along the creek-bed of our necks. Pools of perspiration congregate wherever they can In desperate efforts to cool down While sweated soggy clothes cling And hang off like slimy algae. The fire hydrant could only give so much relief And the ice cream man ran out Of his frosty treats, Almost causing A revolt in the heated streets. The slushy machine at the local gas station Has been on the fritz for weeks, Fallen victim to these days of blister. The local pool has been closed For sanitation reasons And the water park too. So we run for shade under the trees But still just as hot even under their leaves. Hanging off the branches like sloths We wonder, ‘how could Summer commit such high treason?’ Even the best A/Cs lost their fight, Succumbing to the sizzling might Of these days of blister. So we are left with the rickety noise Of stand-up fans on their last leg, Slowly turning from side to side As if to shake their heads in melancholy. And at night, we listen to the hum drum sounds Of their box fan companions Circulating the heat into a warm breeze, Conjuring nothing but a false sense of relief In these days of blister. 2023.
In A World of Awe and Wonder
In A World of Awe and Wonder
By Te’Kia Miller
The day had already used so much of me
Before discarding me to a depleted state.
Being zapped and extended to an inch beyond limit
Had accumulated its toll.
Agitation and Exhaustion conjured their spell over me.
I had more than my fill of this world and those in it.
And I was resigned to fade away for a time to a solace place.
Then came the sweet decadence of your voice calling.
Your heart had a surprise in store.
But I pondered, I wondered…could I give anymore?
It is not easy being torn
Between my love for you
And my deep need to be alone.
What to do when I love your presence
As much as my own?
I had need to recharge as only
An introvert can: left in isolation,
Swimming in my ocean of thoughts in a tranquil space.
A space detached from the siphoning energies
Of the world.
But you, my precious beloved, had a surprise
And I could hear the joy behind your sweet words.
It was against my instinct to accept.
But you’re my beloved knight who I always desire even
In my solitude.
So I gave you my hand.
Quick, you whisked me from this world of chaotic thunder
To our waiting shuttle: a lovely rented pick-up truck.
We rode in sublime silence, hand in hand,
Your thumb strumming my fingers.
I’ve always loved the touch of your stroke.
If it’s ever been a secret
Let me tell it now that I’ve always loved
The way you touch me, even without touching me.
The time lulled me to sleep, something I had been craving.
But when you woke me you whispered,
“keep your eyes closed”.
I love the way you whisper in sensual cadence.
You wrapped me from behind in warm embrace,
Calming my thoughts to this moment.
You guided me
Into the chilled autumn night.
Together we waded through the deep stillness
Until you whispered again, “open your eyes”.
And to my surprise
We stood among a multitude of stars before their queen.
Her luminous mien smiled just so
That her starry subjects shone
With a diamond’s brilliance.
A lane of cosmic dust
Hung as a veil against the night like tapestry.
My breath was stunned within me.
My heart could not fathom the stunning peace
That we stood in.
You took me from a world of chaotic thunder
To a world of awe and wonder.
There were no words for the overflowing elation
That my heart and soul felt.
Only tears made the statement clear
As weight after weight lifted from me.
I had not told you my inner thoughts.
I had not yet shared my growing need
To leave the chaos behind.
Yet you have touched me, studied me
When I had not known.
You have known me enough to sense me.
And again your whispered voice caressed my ear,
“Welcome to space”
My beloved, if this was all you had
It would be more than enough.
But then, what is there to do with
The prepared midnight rendezvous
Of your fantasy?
Did you not take special care to plan this?
Then we should waste nothing.
Amber light pooled in the back of the pick-up truck,
Bathing a waiting plush pallet in warm light.
There are delicacies waiting to be plucked.
They will drench our lips for sweet and decadent kisses
Of pleasure and gratitude.
For you my beloved knight, I am grateful.
Strong and tender.
Unconditional and sacrificial.
Careful and considerate.
This is the love you have shown me.
Yet, I know this is not the entirety of your heart.
There is deeper still you wish to take me.
It is deeper still I wish to go.
Take me to the depths until it’s palpable
As the beating of our hearts.
Until its light outshines the moon, the sun, and the stars.
You took me from a world of chaotic thunder.
And gave me peace in a world of awe and wonder.
2023.
Double Reflection
Double Reflection By Te’Kia Miller There is a double reflection in this mirror. Living one life by day and another life by night My life seems to always be beholden to practicality. Meanwhile my feet chase after a precious dream Still trying to be birthed into this world. But the seams of this duality stretch and contract, Breeding the inevitable tears that threaten To rip me apart from the inside out. There is a double reflection in this mirror. Dreaded thoughts begin to seethe That the ‘real world’ will prevail by Steam rolling this dream. Just like it steam rolled the ones Who gave up to the terrible mantras of lost hope. There is a double reflection in this mirror. And I must choose which me I desire to be. 2022.
Remember Young Heart
Remember Young Heart By Te’Kia Miller Remember why you are here young heart. You are not here to make friends. But if you do, it is okay. Remember why you are here young heart. You are not here to stay. You are just passing by. The end goal is to reach your dreams. They do not live here, Where you are unfulfilled and dissatisfied. They do not live here where you are Discouraged and surrounded by the weights Of other’s negativity. They do not live here where you must Constantly prop up your joy with splints And muddle through a show. They do not live here where others Will try to puppeteer you Where they want you. They will try to finesse you Into things that will encumber you. And think you don’t see the strings They’re holding behind their backs. Remember why you are here young heart. You are just passing by Until you reach your dreams. 2022.
Forgotten Friend
Forgotten Friend By Te’Kia Miller I am the forgotten friend. Even though I’ve been here A long time, maybe Even the longest. Still, I am the forgotten friend. I am the familiar face Shuffled out of place. Did I ever have a place? 1st, 2nd, 3rd, last place? Did it ever matter, did I ever matter? I am the forgotten friend. A familiar face shuffled out of place As easy as one cycles through shirts to wear. Our friendship has worn old Like torn holes in the armpits. New faces come along, piquing curiosity And refreshing interest like water To an arid tongue eager to tell What it knows. Usually close friends Learn of that news first in the pavilion of friendship. Busyness, while it gets the better of us at times, Serves as a cop out after so long runs, and runs, and runs. Days, weeks, months slipping through time Like hourglass sand. I am the forgotten friend. Even though I’ve been here A long time, maybe Even the longest. Still I am the forgotten friend. The one who is least thought about. The one who is last to find out. And if I don’t call you, text you, smoke signal you … I’d never hear from you Except for once in a blue moon, if that. The one who is last thought about. The forgotten friend whose presence Is not truly sought after. No genuine inquiry into my wellbeing is pursued. I am relegated to the back of conscious, existing Only as an apparition of memory. The forgotten friend. No more than a passing thought to you Who I considered precious. We declared such a friendship… or so it seemed. But introspection of this tattered bind During our long departure from communication Has revealed this stark dynamic To the friendship we have. I am the forgotten friend. 2022.
Reminiscing Tears
Reminiscing Tears By Te’Kia Miller Precious are the tears we shed. The memory of them lives longer Than their fleeting trails. Only the heart knows to what extent Pieces of great depths are expelled By the rough and agile hands of Experience. Tears for yesterday. Tears for hope. Tears for despair. Tears for passion. Tears for sorrow. Tears for love. Tears for tomorrow. Tears for fear. Tears for anger. Tears for success. Tears for failure. Tears for pain. Tears for joy. Tears for danger. Tears for today. Tears for a friend. Tears for a stranger. Tears for loved ones passed away. Tears for precious things lost. Tears for the lies. Tears for the truth. Tears for death. Tears for life. Ebbing and tiding with tempest and calm. They melt into each other, Pooling into an ocean of a lifetime. The depths hold treasures within, Pieces of wisdom sparkling beneath The glassy surface Reflecting back on the peering face. 2022.
Matching Energy for Energy
Matching Energy for Energy
By Te’Kia Miller
If you don’t want to reap it,
Then don’t sow it.
Don’t wonder why I don’t call you.
You don’t call me, hardly ever.
Don’t wonder why I don’t text you.
I can bet my last dollar you won’t answer back.
Don’t wonder why we don’t hang out.
You’ll suggest we meet up
But then don’t follow up.
Don’t wonder why I don’t share
Big life updates and what’s new with me.
These days I’m the last to know from you.
I guess when someone is too busy
They only see in blurred vision.
Telling themselves a slurred version
Of these events, inevitably their perception flips
And want to grant blame in my custody.
All I’m doing it matching energy for energy.
Does anyone invest in one-sided anything?
So why, then, do you expect me to invest
In a one-sided friendship?
Are you more special
Than other priorities worth my time, space, and energy?
Are you more special than
Others who gladly invest the same
Time, space, and energy
To grow and maintain a friendship?
“Too busy,” you say.
So is everyone else.
I’m not that friend to wait on bated breath,
Fingers twiddling by the phone.
I’m first chair and not second fiddle.
You’ll cross my mind
Like wind passing by,
Rustling the leaves of distant memories.
Then I shake them away like dust
From a worn out ‘Welcome’ mat.
And continue with living life,
Matching energy for energy.
2022.
Te'Kia Miller 