jnahaspoetry
I bleed poetry and live for creative writing opportunities
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Written by jnahaspoetry

~A Blueprint~

Imagine Waking Up a Couple Million Dollars Rich, What Would You Do?

Me? I’d pay all of my debt down to ZERO– quick, fast and in a hurry. But first, I’d jump up and down and scream for ten minutes straight, hollering “no more worries!”

After paying them bills though, I’d be at the first open house showing! But it gotta be in a safe neighborhood with a 7-day closing.

Next, I’d find a fulfilling charity to donate bucks galore. Schools, shelters, and women’s empowerment groups – might even invest in a bookstore.

I will always pay homage to the people who opened up them doors. Those that helped me, hindered me, and especially all of my sponsors and mentors.

And for the rest of my life, I’d kick back, relax and chill. Enjoying the fruits of my labor, while watching my investments build and build.

By the same token, I’d be sure to pay it all forward. By reaching out to my people, dropping jewels on how their steps may be ordered.

If I woke up a million dollars rich, life would be good. Because as I rise, I will help as many people as I could.

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Written by jnahaspoetry
~A Blueprint~
Imagine Waking Up a Couple Million Dollars Rich, What Would You Do?
Me? I’d pay all of my debt down to ZERO– quick, fast and in a hurry. But first, I’d jump up and down and scream for ten minutes straight, hollering “no more worries!”
After paying them bills though, I’d be at the first open house showing! But it gotta be in a safe neighborhood with a 7-day closing.
Next, I’d find a fulfilling charity to donate bucks galore. Schools, shelters, and women’s empowerment groups – might even invest in a bookstore.
I will always pay homage to the people who opened up them doors. Those that helped me, hindered me, and especially all of my sponsors and mentors.
And for the rest of my life, I’d kick back, relax and chill. Enjoying the fruits of my labor, while watching my investments build and build.
By the same token, I’d be sure to pay it all forward. By reaching out to my people, dropping jewels on how their steps may be ordered.
If I woke up a million dollars rich, life would be good. Because as I rise, I will help as many people as I could.



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Challenge of the Week #61: Write a piece of flash fiction about rejection. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by jnahaspoetry

~Dark Stain~

All I ever knew is rejection in my life.

The complexion of tar imprinting a permanent scar of strife.

A Scarlett letter of a dark color, treated like a stain.

Wanting society to treat me fair, though all I get is pain.

Mama never liked me because I didn’t fit the mold.

I can’t control who I am, and I refuse to quiet my bold.

For it is the shield of armor against a world complacent in hate.

Be it home life, work life or love life – it seems to be my fate.

That no matter how hard I push myself, I hardly get too far.

When everyone around you wants to tell you who you are.

What you’ll never be – places you’ll never see. A caged bird it feels I am.

I’m simply screaming to the world, ‘just let me be! got damn!’

I’m not trying to hurt nobody, though plenty have hurt me.

When I gave my love to a phony tony, my heart was stolen – lock & key.

Showing me no mercy through the journey of his loveless game of chess.

Playing on my emotions in the guise of devotion, he showed me hate the best.

Dressed up as love in its purest and most sincere form, initially…

Eventually placidly yet drastically, I felt myself drowning in toxicity.

It took me three agonizing years before I found my exit route

Wheeling away the remainder of my feelings in an empty brouette.

In my departure, he didn’t neglect to remind me of my flaws

Too dark! Too strong! Too eccentric. For every effect, I was the cause.

Of why he wouldn’t and couldn’t, stand tall, deep in love with me.

This is the story of my life – Oh what a tragedy….

Maybe one day soon I hope, I’ll be more than just a stain

Dark and lovely forever defines me, as I long for fortune and gain!

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Challenge of the Week #61: Write a piece of flash fiction about rejection. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by jnahaspoetry
~Dark Stain~
All I ever knew is rejection in my life.
The complexion of tar imprinting a permanent scar of strife.
A Scarlett letter of a dark color, treated like a stain.
Wanting society to treat me fair, though all I get is pain.
Mama never liked me because I didn’t fit the mold.
I can’t control who I am, and I refuse to quiet my bold.
For it is the shield of armor against a world complacent in hate.
Be it home life, work life or love life – it seems to be my fate.
That no matter how hard I push myself, I hardly get too far.
When everyone around you wants to tell you who you are.
What you’ll never be – places you’ll never see. A caged bird it feels I am.
I’m simply screaming to the world, ‘just let me be! got damn!’
I’m not trying to hurt nobody, though plenty have hurt me.
When I gave my love to a phony tony, my heart was stolen – lock & key.
Showing me no mercy through the journey of his loveless game of chess.
Playing on my emotions in the guise of devotion, he showed me hate the best.
Dressed up as love in its purest and most sincere form, initially…
Eventually placidly yet drastically, I felt myself drowning in toxicity.
It took me three agonizing years before I found my exit route
Wheeling away the remainder of my feelings in an empty brouette.
In my departure, he didn’t neglect to remind me of my flaws
Too dark! Too strong! Too eccentric. For every effect, I was the cause.
Of why he wouldn’t and couldn’t, stand tall, deep in love with me.
This is the story of my life – Oh what a tragedy….
Maybe one day soon I hope, I’ll be more than just a stain
Dark and lovely forever defines me, as I long for fortune and gain!

#Itslit  #getlit 
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Challenge of the Week #60: You have just discovered a new lifeform. Write a story of 200 words or more. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by jnahaspoetry

~(Holy Spirit)~

I may have encroached upon the digs of a spirit Queen. Or rather, she came out of nowhere as a manifestation of my thought process. At the time, I was in search of a new home. One to plant my seeds of spiritual discovery. I want to watch it blossom and grow into a windfall of liberation for the tribe of the dark skins.

But at the open house, something consumed me. Perhaps it was a strong intuition, but I think not. Indeed, something within me advised me to walk past the house, so I did. At the same time, I overheard the seller and the realtor speaking, almost as if they knew I was coming for this home, and they had no intention of giving it to my kind.

“I think you found the kind of buyer this neighborhood requires.” Said the realtor. They (the realtor, the owner and her children stood upon the front porch watching me pass them by). “Yes, this one’s got a trust fund. It’s a guaranteed sale”, she continued.

As I heard this, the hairs on my skin rose. This never happened before. “You want it. You’ll get it!” A spirit spoke. Then an Ancestor said, “These are your stomping grounds – your territory. You want it. It’s yours.”

Looking all around me, I saw no one to whom I could identify as the speaker of these words. Then as if floating on water, and cool as a cucumber, I sprung on, past the house once more walking to my car.

“Soy Kalifa” is what I heard the second my car door closed, windows rolled up. I didn’t understand the meaning.

“Soy Kalifa”, it whispered. The entire ride back home, soy kalifa was all that ingrained within my brain.

And then….I began praying. Asking for guidance on how to make home ownership a reality in my life.

After this, I felt cleansed. As if I had done and said what needed to be done and said. Next, a jazz song of the most beautiful melodies began to croon from my stereo system. The title on the stereo face plate read ~Soy Kalifa~.

Soy in Spanish means, I AM. Kalifa, an African baby name means, Holy.

Coincidence?

I think not…..

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Challenge of the Week #60: You have just discovered a new lifeform. Write a story of 200 words or more. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by jnahaspoetry
~(Holy Spirit)~
I may have encroached upon the digs of a spirit Queen. Or rather, she came out of nowhere as a manifestation of my thought process. At the time, I was in search of a new home. One to plant my seeds of spiritual discovery. I want to watch it blossom and grow into a windfall of liberation for the tribe of the dark skins.

But at the open house, something consumed me. Perhaps it was a strong intuition, but I think not. Indeed, something within me advised me to walk past the house, so I did. At the same time, I overheard the seller and the realtor speaking, almost as if they knew I was coming for this home, and they had no intention of giving it to my kind.

“I think you found the kind of buyer this neighborhood requires.” Said the realtor. They (the realtor, the owner and her children stood upon the front porch watching me pass them by). “Yes, this one’s got a trust fund. It’s a guaranteed sale”, she continued.

As I heard this, the hairs on my skin rose. This never happened before. “You want it. You’ll get it!” A spirit spoke. Then an Ancestor said, “These are your stomping grounds – your territory. You want it. It’s yours.”

Looking all around me, I saw no one to whom I could identify as the speaker of these words. Then as if floating on water, and cool as a cucumber, I sprung on, past the house once more walking to my car.

“Soy Kalifa” is what I heard the second my car door closed, windows rolled up. I didn’t understand the meaning.
“Soy Kalifa”, it whispered. The entire ride back home, soy kalifa was all that ingrained within my brain.

And then….I began praying. Asking for guidance on how to make home ownership a reality in my life.

After this, I felt cleansed. As if I had done and said what needed to be done and said. Next, a jazz song of the most beautiful melodies began to croon from my stereo system. The title on the stereo face plate read ~Soy Kalifa~.

Soy in Spanish means, I AM. Kalifa, an African baby name means, Holy.
Coincidence?
I think not…..

#adventure  #mystery 
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"I should come with a warning sign." Show us what's written on it! 2-20 words only!
Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Micropoetry

Discretion advised...

Hard pill to swallow

Sassy and too real for society

May change your thinking – 

Without even trying...

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"I should come with a warning sign." Show us what's written on it! 2-20 words only!
Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Micropoetry
Discretion advised...
Hard pill to swallow
Sassy and too real for society
May change your thinking – 
Without even trying...
#nonfiction 
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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Stream of Consciousness

May this day 10:10 (Numerology), bring prosperity to the deserving.

~Peace~

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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Stream of Consciousness
May this day 10:10 (Numerology), bring prosperity to the deserving.
~Peace~

#nonfiction  #spirituality 
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Publishing

~My Pocketbook~

This here pocketbook ain’t for free and it darn sure ain’t for sale

This pocketbook belongs to me

I OWN it – can’t you tell?

If a man wants to dig on me - He must earn his keep

All I want to see is: Receipt! Receipt! Receipt!

You want to touch this pocketbook?

It’s gonna cost ya!

You want to see this pocketbook?

Well see, there’s a charge for that too!

You got to pay to play – even for just a lookie loo

I’m no hooker, jezebel nor prostitute

My pocketbook holds mostly, peace, love & truth

But I gotta see proof before I even believe you

With cash on delivery – occasionally

Because fair exchange ain’t never been no robbery

To gift me with your presence, loyalty & solidarity…

Ensures you a lifetime of equal reciprocity

You want to stick your nose in my private affairs…

The cost is heavy and I don’t share!

This here chick don’t give up no skins - certainly, not my purse

My prize possession, my divine collection!?

No sir – pay ME first!

This pocketbook don’t belong to you

I hold the purse strings – You deposit the truth

And to those that think they run My shit

Please remember this:

I AM that chick!

So never forget…

This… is…. MY… shit!

© 2017 ~Jnaha~

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Publishing
~My Pocketbook~
This here pocketbook ain’t for free and it darn sure ain’t for sale
This pocketbook belongs to me
I OWN it – can’t you tell?
If a man wants to dig on me - He must earn his keep
All I want to see is: Receipt! Receipt! Receipt!
You want to touch this pocketbook?
It’s gonna cost ya!
You want to see this pocketbook?
Well see, there’s a charge for that too!
You got to pay to play – even for just a lookie loo
I’m no hooker, jezebel nor prostitute
My pocketbook holds mostly, peace, love & truth
But I gotta see proof before I even believe you
With cash on delivery – occasionally
Because fair exchange ain’t never been no robbery
To gift me with your presence, loyalty & solidarity…
Ensures you a lifetime of equal reciprocity
You want to stick your nose in my private affairs…
The cost is heavy and I don’t share!
This here chick don’t give up no skins - certainly, not my purse
My prize possession, my divine collection!?
No sir – pay ME first!
This pocketbook don’t belong to you
I hold the purse strings – You deposit the truth
And to those that think they run My shit
Please remember this:
I AM that chick!
So never forget…
This… is…. MY… shit!
© 2017 ~Jnaha~



#nonfiction  #poetry  #philosophy  #lyrics 
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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Dreams

While Sleeping...

Strange Thing Happened in My Sleep…

A Wiccan died at work. We had to pack her things and figure out who in her family (world), to send her belongings to.

Looking outside the office window, the scene was a great sea. There were all kinds of animals (land animals: horses, goats, cows, etc.), walking in water. It was stormy outside; windy and raining.

The trees looked like people. They looked like humans bent down – hands to feet. One woman was much taller than the rest. She was a giantess compared to the human like trees behind her.

She was the complexion of the tree trunks, with short wild hair, wearing white underwear. She wore no bra. As I watched her out of this office window, I noticed that she was speaking. “Y’all didn’t take me serious. Didn’t respect the land and people.”

Then, at the gesture of her hands, a tornado was created, and an even greater storm.

I was terrified because it felt like the end of a world was coming.

Then….

I woke up!

Checkout my Bookstore

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Jnaha

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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Dreams
While Sleeping...
Strange Thing Happened in My Sleep…
A Wiccan died at work. We had to pack her things and figure out who in her family (world), to send her belongings to.
Looking outside the office window, the scene was a great sea. There were all kinds of animals (land animals: horses, goats, cows, etc.), walking in water. It was stormy outside; windy and raining.
The trees looked like people. They looked like humans bent down – hands to feet. One woman was much taller than the rest. She was a giantess compared to the human like trees behind her.
She was the complexion of the tree trunks, with short wild hair, wearing white underwear. She wore no bra. As I watched her out of this office window, I noticed that she was speaking. “Y’all didn’t take me serious. Didn’t respect the land and people.”
Then, at the gesture of her hands, a tornado was created, and an even greater storm.
I was terrified because it felt like the end of a world was coming.
Then….
I woke up!
Checkout my Bookstore
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Jnaha
#nonfiction  #mystery  #spirituality 
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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Testimonial

The Grocery Store Experience

Saw a woman in the grocery store that had me teared up. She was speaking as if she was at home and I was her daughter. She looked at me and she promised me that she was gonna get us a place of our own soon. (Mind you, getting my own home is ALL I crave in my life right now, so it felt like she was speaking to my situation).

Then she said, "you betta not hit my mama". Some shit I would say....

Then as I bagged my last grocery, she looked at me and said, " thank you for doing this for me."

Like maybe she knew I wasn't her daughter but was glad I didn't confirm it for her.

In fact the whole experience reminded me of my own mother.

So as I was leaving I told her she was blessed. Odd, because I usually say God bless to people.

I was gonna offer her the change left from my purchase, but didn't want to assume she was in need of money because she had a coffee and stuff.

I go out to my car, load it, and pull off but something made me hit the brakes and dig in my pocket.

I looked around, saw the woman headed straight toward me and gave her the $17 I had left.

I can't afford it, because I am on a budget. But my heart moved me anyway.

Damn I'm still crying....

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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Testimonial
The Grocery Store Experience
Saw a woman in the grocery store that had me teared up. She was speaking as if she was at home and I was her daughter. She looked at me and she promised me that she was gonna get us a place of our own soon. (Mind you, getting my own home is ALL I crave in my life right now, so it felt like she was speaking to my situation).
Then she said, "you betta not hit my mama". Some shit I would say....
Then as I bagged my last grocery, she looked at me and said, " thank you for doing this for me."
Like maybe she knew I wasn't her daughter but was glad I didn't confirm it for her.
In fact the whole experience reminded me of my own mother.
So as I was leaving I told her she was blessed. Odd, because I usually say God bless to people.
I was gonna offer her the change left from my purchase, but didn't want to assume she was in need of money because she had a coffee and stuff.
I go out to my car, load it, and pull off but something made me hit the brakes and dig in my pocket.
I looked around, saw the woman headed straight toward me and gave her the $17 I had left.
I can't afford it, because I am on a budget. But my heart moved me anyway.
Damn I'm still crying....
#nonfiction  #spirituality 
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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Blog

Everybody Need Help Sometimes

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Jnaha

***eBook PROMOTION - Pay ONLY $1 per copy. If you have PAY-PAL and an email address, inbox me.***

Book of Life Experienced (Pay ONLY $1 via Pay-Pal)

Poetry Pieces of Peace (Pay ONLY $1 via Pay-Pal)

Who She Be!? (Pay ONLY $1 via Pay-Pal)

~I APPRECIATE ANY and ALL SUPPORT - THANKS~

Jnaha 's Books and Publications Spotlight

I am an Oakland Californian, born and bred. I recently turned my 17-year writing hobby, into a career. I bleed poetry and I live for a creative writing opportunity. Be on the lookout for my self-published works. Please enjoy. ~Peace~

LULU.COM

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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Blog
Everybody Need Help Sometimes
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Jnaha

***eBook PROMOTION - Pay ONLY $1 per copy. If you have PAY-PAL and an email address, inbox me.***

Book of Life Experienced (Pay ONLY $1 via Pay-Pal)

Poetry Pieces of Peace (Pay ONLY $1 via Pay-Pal)

Who She Be!? (Pay ONLY $1 via Pay-Pal)

~I APPRECIATE ANY and ALL SUPPORT - THANKS~

Jnaha 's Books and Publications Spotlight

I am an Oakland Californian, born and bred. I recently turned my 17-year writing hobby, into a career. I bleed poetry and I live for a creative writing opportunity. Be on the lookout for my self-published works. Please enjoy. ~Peace~

LULU.COM
#nonfiction 
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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Poetry & Free Verse

The Good Panties

I finally came up on a pair of good

Panties

Protecting my privates like a wrapper to

Candy

Protector of mine

Provider of comfortable coverage

My size

They didn’t come cheap that’s for

Sure

But then again, what good thing ever

Does?

I’ve had some dirty drawz

Y’all

Some were holier than thou

While others were just well endowed

I reserved some, just for Aunt Flow

You know…

That mean thing that comes around

Once a month

Bullying the hell out of a woman’s insides…

But don’t none of them

Grannies

Compare to my brand new

Panties

Aged out of rotation like

Desecration

Those old dogs got trashed

Fast

Like a good pair of comfy

Shoes

Only my new good panties will

Do!

Panties = A Southern term for “boyfriend”, “man”, “old man”

This poem was inspired by a Facebook friend of mine - D.W of Louisiana

Written by Jnaha © 2017

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Written by jnahaspoetry in portal Poetry & Free Verse
The Good Panties
I finally came up on a pair of good
Panties
Protecting my privates like a wrapper to
Candy
Protector of mine
Provider of comfortable coverage
My size
They didn’t come cheap that’s for
Sure
But then again, what good thing ever
Does?
I’ve had some dirty drawz
Y’all
Some were holier than thou
While others were just well endowed
I reserved some, just for Aunt Flow
You know…
That mean thing that comes around
Once a month
Bullying the hell out of a woman’s insides…
But don’t none of them
Grannies
Compare to my brand new
Panties
Aged out of rotation like
Desecration
Those old dogs got trashed
Fast
Like a good pair of comfy
Shoes
Only my new good panties will
Do!
Panties = A Southern term for “boyfriend”, “man”, “old man”
This poem was inspired by a Facebook friend of mine - D.W of Louisiana
Written by Jnaha © 2017

#poetry  #news 
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