ON MY WORD * Celebrating 3 Years Of Blogging • Share Your Link! #AuthenticiteeSpeaks

Help Authenticitee Speaks celebrate three years of blogging. Say hello and leave a link to your blog.

authenticitee speaks

When I uploaded my first post on WordPress three years ago today, I had no idea what I was getting into…

I’m certainly grateful for what blogging has taught me and (now) excited (again) about the potential it holds but “for real for real“? I’m still winging it.

See….Authenticitee Speaks has morphed into a public record of my journal, a clear declaration of my allegiance to Jesus who I believe is the Christ, a platform to interview and showcase those who inspire me, words of encouragement and some serious, sho nuff grown folks love poetry. Oh and one mo’ thang Honty – everyone is welcome!! What the what?! What do you do with that kinda gumbo?

Actually – I’m not quite sure. I mean do I have to do something about that? Isn’t that what makes my authenticity speak? Just being me? Heck. Until my friend Quiana…

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My Favorite Blogs For 2018

I’m honored to be on such a distinguished list of bloggers.

Honor Society

from HarsH ReaLiTy

HarsH ReaLiTy

Twelfth grade was going ok. I was busy with college applications, I had a girlfriend at White Station, and we were having a winning soccer season! Everything was great… except for one thing.

Art class.

I walked into the art room and quickly found my way to my desk. The art room tables were situated in a circle that filled the entire room and it afforded us the opportunity to talk and observe each other’s work. Normally this would be a fun and stimulating atmosphere to be a part of. Normally.

Hey Chink,” a voice from my left side slid in to interrupt my peaceful thoughts. I knew the voice all too well. This same asshat had been tormenting me since the beginning of the school year and was determined to get under my skin. You know how adults love to claim that “if you just ignore it…

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The Screen

I’ve re-written this poem since first posting
so I’ll post both versions.

This is the re-write:

The Screen

There is a screen between us, semi-opaque;
it filters our lives.

What you see is what I’m not and what I see
is not what you imagine.

Now you are the romantic, slipping into his
drugs, as I slither on your lap, flushed with
shame: for this, I win the crown.

We are a little Miss America, lost on her stroll
down the aisle.

We are the innocent little darling who forgets
to look harmless.

The first post:

The Screen

There is a screen between us, semi-opaque; it
filters our lives.

What you see is who I want to be and what I
see is not what you imagine.

Now you are the romantic; weeping into his drugs,
while I dance on the table, flushed with shame, for
this, I win a crown.

We are a little Miss America, lost on her stroll
down the aisle.

We are the little darling who forgot to
look harmless.

 

(c) Rob Goldstein 2016-2018 All Rights Reserved