Out of The Mouths of Babes; 8am service

This Child....
Soft curly haired afro..smooth skin of rich mocha...burnished orange shirt and slacks of hued honey darkened by the sun. ...
The Preacher said ...
"throw your head back and call the name of the one who gives you the victory"

This Child...
Nestled in his mommas lap with his neck bent back to give God the praise from his belly, opened his mouth and with the tiny-est sweetest voice yelled...

Jesssssuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuussssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

This Child...
He held it long past the last persons breath demanded an inhale
He shouted louder than the voices of seasoned church folk
He closed his eyes and called on the One who loves him beyond even his baby comprehension
He spoke it louder than the speakers set at volumes that fill a stadium's rafters
He sang it harder, with his mouth opened wider, and his hands on his belly to encourage even the last morsel of breath to carry His name...

This Child...
this mocha flavored afro tinged pint sized perfection of God, stopped only when he gave everything...


then...
only when his air exhausted itself
only when he gave his best

he inhaled a breath and softly repeated
with his second wind....Jesus

it was in this moment- in this second- upon this extended breath that I was reminded that I too must throw my head back- not caring about who is around me - who is holding me - I must throw all caution to the wind that catches and carries my breath on it's breeze..


So I open my mouth extend my throat to allow the fullness of my praise to be heard by the one who gave His life so that I might have life and have it more abundantly...
I close my eyes and allow my tears to water my praise that flows as I too call the name of the One who is my intercessor, my redeemer, the lover of my soul and then when my breath is gone when it has exhausted the oxygen I shall inhale and softly say from inside my heart's heart... as sweetly as I can .....
Jesus.....thank you

You're My Latest, My Greatest Inspiration

I'm thankful yes I'm blessed just to know you...more beautiful than the Mona Lisa, worth more than gold...you're my latest, you're my greatest inspiration...you inspire me....Teddy Pendergrass


When I took this picture of this little munchkin we were singing the sponge bob square pants song really

really loud, really really off key and when I would mess up the words she would fall out into a fit of giggles and correct me. At the point of this smile I think Spongebob had just eaten a ton of crabby patties and turned green and she found that extremely funny (go figure). Why share this? So glad that you asked...

While sitting in church today listening to a sermon that I feel the pastor was (as we like to say) walking around all up in my backyard, and finding myself drifting at times to the places in my mind that is reserved for the moments of kicking myself because of unrealized dreams and goals, I had an epiphany ...it was simply....shut the hell up self, just be quiet.

My mind immediately thought about my niece Christina....from even before her birth she has been fighting to live...determined to be here, letting nothing and no one stop her.

When my sister first found out she was pregnant (for like the millionth time...honest to goodness I think that Alicia is taking the scripture to " be fruitful and multiply" to heart like God was giving her a personal directive) the doctors informed her that this child was not going to have a normally developed heart.

The prognosis was that (we are going to speak in lay-mans simple speak here ...Alicia was explaining to me with the technical terms and she confused herself and gave me a headache) Christina had to have heart surgery upon birth, her heart was going to develop with a right ventricle that was too small and her great arteries (aorta and pulmonary) were both going to be attached to this underdeveloped ventricle. What the doctors would have to do (over a process of three surgeries in almost as many years) is attach the two arteries together to make one big artery, leave a hole in the right ventricle so that the left ventricle can help pump her blood and they also have to redirect the veins that provides the blood flow. whew...and this is lay-mans terms?

Christina was born and went immediately into surgery to have the first portion of the correction done. She stayed in the hospital for what seemed like forever and then she came home. I can't speak for anyone else but I was so concerned about how she was going to acclimate to her environment and grow and how delicate would we have to be with her?
Well she quickly dispelled any concerns about her being a helpless, needing a soft glove-touch little girl. As a matter of fact I have NEVER....repeat....NEVER heard a bigger mouth and I have never seen a hungerier and stronger baby. With all the medicine she had to take and the injections she had to get she was a trooper...to the point that if you were late or dragging your feet with her medicine she would gladly remind you with the loudest alarm you have ever heard.

When it was time for her second surgery in she went and for a minute in the operating room it was touchy and the surgons were concerned; but here this little treat at barely a year old came through like a refreshing gust of wind on a hot summer day. This time the doctors gave her a healing time of 4 months and they were absolutely shocked when she cut the time in half and was running around like a mini-dennis the meneace (as were we...as were we).

She still has one more surgery to go, it has to do with the last portion of redirecting the flow of her blood, and God....has been there since the beginning and through it all...for God will continue to work His miracles....

I say all of this to say:
For two years and two months this angel...this tangible miracle of God has been determined to not only live but there is nothing that stops her from acheiving everything she sets her mind to. She walked before she was barely a year old, she has learned how to climb out of her crib (not always landing on her feet but she dusts her little behind off and runs out of the room to where she wants to go), the first word she spoke was (I think) eat, and now she speaks clearly and dare I say eloquently effective in giving commands and directives, she is almost potty trained and knowing my sister is on her way to making her first three course meal(consisting of juice, cereal everywhere, and bread). I have never seen her stumped, or stopped (a problem for me when babysitting), and if you are to slow she just does it herself (again a problem when babysitting because she has energy that far surpasses mine).

I say this to say;
She is my latest and greatest inspiration....of course scripture tells me that all things are possible with God, that if He promises He always keeps His word...I believe that His time is not equivalent to my own (I'm more of a want it all right now kind of person and I think that God is more laid back...you know He has plans and all).
I do know that Christina has been faced with odds that I will never have to deal with, and she may not understand the severity of what she is going through and it really doesn't matter...this is all she knows and what she has taught me is that in spite of circumstances, situations, conditions...in spite of the fact that it may not be picture perfect...its ours and there is always a way when there is a will.
She is teaching me that differences are not hinderences, that normalcy is what I make it not how others define it and there is always another way and a solution if we just look.
She reminds me that life is to be lived...because we want it....because it is a gift....life is not to be lived with fear but with fervor, freedom, fearlessness, faith.
She shows me that strength lies within our will, our breaths.
She lives passionately, confidently, lovingly; knowing what she wants, likes, needs (and makes no bones about letting you know what she wants, likes, and needs).

God has been with this child every step of the way, He has been blessing her keeping her guiding her and leading her and He is using her life as a testimony to what is truly important...to live our best lives our best ways our own ways. ...To live....

So when I get into my down in the dumps what the hell bag...honestly I simply ...well first I tell that part of my self to shut up but then I remember my tiny framed, brown suga mocha momma Inspiration...and I smile and I say thank you God for her presence in my life...she is ...in one word...delicious

BetterMe Coaching Tool

Because of Christina we are all more conscious of our heart health. I encourage you to join us in heart healthy living...

Lets live our best lives in our best ways....lets try to stretch forever as long as we can...

Why I love Books

Best Seller

I waited
patiently waited
breathing….knowing

I felt you sliding…gliding
I bent my spine arched my column
contoured a message sublime

minal~ly visual….here…here
I am….i…am…here
slide your fingers along the ridges upon my

spine…gently…fingering…letters
embossed with a title to your
taste….exhale…for you’ve

found…just what you want…slowly
curl your pointer around the edge…the…
valley that bindz me together and

pull…not so hard…tug
softly…so as not to damage
this perfectly packaged portion seasoned

pleasing to your appetite…place
your palm across my thick cover…press…
press and feel my texture upon the ridges

of your finger…tip…trace me…draw
me in…graze me against the flesh
of your bottom lip as you in~

hale as I beathe…stay here a
moment…savour…delight…don’t
rush. time has closed it’s eyes

to allow stillness to rest upon this place
our breath…now feel the hard
edge…move over and inch and

notice the fresh tender smooth in
side…now open easy…secure
open…smooth…breath in

and exhale when you see the autograph
in permanent ink Imprinted just for you…
your…name…here

i whisper…now choose your font...i won’t
mind…color me…lick your
finger and turn me…pull me

back…me close…my….close
get a tight grip…I have one
or two with many in

the middle…get lost in me
where~ever you want to go…I’ll take you there…
this is your treasure chest…your island

dock ..tie up…and rest…
don’t put me down…
mark me…don’t dog me unless its

style rather than habit…
eat every word whispered in
your ear…hear this reverberation

in your veins pulsating it’s rhythm
race if you want but
you might miss the extra~

ordinary ending…we don’t
want that
are you done…I am…almost

your eyes have feasted…you have
felt…I have quenched your thirst…your breath
allowed life to be real~eased from me

to you…you’ve entered my world
and left your finger
print upon my pages…you’ve touched me

as I have touched you…so i
thank you…thank you
thank you for



in~joy~ing my little brown book
pleasures all mine…come…
back any time…






Penned by moni(smoke)…ashe’

Moni Shake

Flow

Fade in…

We are the music-
Feeds a restless swagger. puts
a bop in a dip
the music
Stirs/the rhythm swings
a bounce. adds
the 1 to the one~two step.
the music
Smokes the hustle. slides
the rock
the music-
Calls the shout. flops
the hat of the Sunday go ta meetin’ church
sistah
the music
Washes richness in waves
of chords that
float forever in flows
upon the air
the music
Settles the sun upon a bed of sighs
caresses the moon and bathes
avant~garde interludes of rapture within
rhapsodic symphonic, intervals of bump
thump rump pump pump pump pump


Breathe/ ahh ahh ahh ahh
Move/ boom boom boom

We are the music
Formed in harmonies
Framed in tones
Fastened in rhymes
Fostered in instruments
Figured by fingers found
Flying through time eclipsing
Moments meant for
Now

Breathe/ ahh ahh ahh ahhh ahhhh
Move/ boom boom boom

the music
Surrounds sound in Dolby or Bose
Nobody knows do one

We are the music
Puts a
Shoop in doo doop
bob in be bop
hop in lindy
flames to a tango
twirls tangerine twists
balm for the harlem shake
pose for the vogue
tip toes in ballet
grooves bass in jazz
cool in hip hop
Puts a
Invite in house
speed to the tarrentella
native boom in African
spice in salsa
snap in tap
hip ride in slow dance
bills in dolla wine
fire in fusion
remedy in chicken noodle soup
meringue in meringue
Puts a
Cream in mash potato
bounce in boogie,
right left in Chicago step
batter in cakewalk
mix in shuffle
glow in black bottom
360 degrees in square dance
afro’s in Cuban
wines in reggae
motions in Macarena
Puts a
Sparkle in shimmy
stutter in shag
puts
fried funky chicken on a
Candied calypso
Puts a
Dirty in south
suzy in q
quick in step
french in ibo
spasm in jerk
heel in toe wop
Puts a
Booty in bump ~n~
room in rumba

we are the music that
Takes a beat adds a bass, tempts a treble hangs a clef, tightens a tune, engages tone,
flutes a harmony, blends a pitch, serenades a tempo, lives a lyric, snaps a finger, shakes a shoulder, twitches a hip, forms a circle, snakes a shoulder, shakes a rump



we are the music that
changes an octave, cuts a key, tips a high hat, mixes a Hammond b~4 pumping a pipe, taps a bongo, licks a chord, carves a curve… soprano, melts an alto, stirs a tenor into a sharp, tick tocks classical, reaps in Christian, saturates rhythm and blues with
country, dips in some gospel, mixes in fusion drops some acid, shuffles rock, polkas pop, buries blues, shimmies a scat, hustles a hum, jigs some jazz, sprinkles a drum, sambas a sax, trembles a trombone, hulas a harp, blows wind on a violin and vibrates a viola, charms a clarinet, waltzes a piano, sways a snare, picks a guitar, mambos a
mandolin, soft-shoes a swim, turkey trots a triangle, boils a kettle drum, croons a
tom-tom beat cha cha’s on a timpani, kolo’s a washboard, rains on a harmonica, gallops a tula, Charlestons a horn, shags a interval, stomps an overture, allegras a
ballad, synthesizes a symphony, whistles honky-tonk, takes the round adds a
measure corners a bar prestos a freestyle squares a fling, jives a coronet then hops to jitterbug on a tambourine, passos a oboe doble, takes apache passion swings to the
west coast keeps rag time popping ~n~ lockin’, pirouettes socca, laces latin, chants a rhythm, ~n~ lures the lute to…
freak a funk…

the music
Pours life
Fills lungs
Beckons
Consumes Laments
Intones Groans ~n~ Moans
Captivates Moves
Soothes smooth grooves
Ummmph ummmph ummmmph
We are the music……………………………………Fade out…..

Penned by Moni....Ashe'

Sown

Full Circle

I used to be a beat-
tapping timidly
among long caramel colored fingers
Strum Strum Strum-ing strings
of terra-cotta wood-
Knock Knock Knock-ing
ashen tightened hide tied around
its mahogany cylinder.
But now I am the rhythm
Flowing through hallowed ground upon
which the feet of fingers strummed
grow roots-
knotting-beating melodies
through mahogany drums.

I used to be a sonnet-
rhym~ing
12 lullab-eyed lines in-2 a couplet
turn~ing time.
Now I am a ballad - ode to more
epic journeys- counted within the lullaby-eye
turned twisted-timed upon the measure.

I used to be a seed-
sown within the fertile hull-
encapsulated-covered-pushed-buried
in rich stroked chocolate frothed sod.
But now I am a root-
reaching deep through mocha beats
flowing upon lullab-eyed sonnets
14 stretched to infinite upon an
epic ballads ode to
Brown Suga juicy~ness.
Encapsulated- turned tilled kissed and picked
by the
Fingers of God.

Penned by Moni...Ashe

Bass

my luv

Don’t Want No Blues...

I don’t want to read

I want to write of the brotha
with toffee flavored skin
who saunters in
smooth penetrating purposeful
s
t
e
p
s
deep in voice and thought.

I don't want to listen

I want to visit the moment when
images compressed in my mind
are 3d’d into reality of
him n me n I don’t know
maybe a moment of sublime
treats n tricks that tick the
tock of this
fantasied tale of the butta
cream male and my feathered frock.

I don't want to wait

I want to will into being the
touch of two minds that linger
in subtlety n crooked lines
creased with stray crayoned
remnants of passion hue
blessed by the henna stoaked
russet bay you.

I don't want to have

I want to take whispers breezed
upon the waves of air born kisses
from his sheltered gaze...i want to
bend time to curl beneath the
fire blown ash of savage heat...



penned by moni(smoke)…ashe’