keep it funky. lets emerge.

(Soul Anagram by Tabitha Brown, creater of The Pairabirds)

don't interrupt.

love is pure and innocent. we allow our insecurities and selfishness to ruin it with overwhelming definitions and standards we can't meet. let love stand. let your spirit guide. don't allow this space to become cluttered and hectic like the physical world we cater to. the energy will tell you. love freely.

and this will come to.

warm flesh energized with passion
capturing youthful glances
embracing what the body was considering
feeling too natural, too easy
knowing the mind is the key to endurance
not speaking, just moving around each other
resistance becoming weak
he thrust his stiffness closer to her femininity
silently asking to penetrate
desire filled breaths
she agreed
he dominated
she eagerly submitted
this complete moment told her their oneness had arrived
they were I
the consideration he took into her
she told him why he was man
he showed her why she was mother
they gave each other in sacrifice
they were home

a magazine created with you in mind.

Read "Lost in the Stacks: Zora Neale Hurston, Toni Morrison, and Zadie Smith"

http://clutchmagonline.com/lifeculture/feature/lost-in-shelves/

Clutch magazine is simply amazing. Everything a sophisticated Black lady would want to see is here! Articles with depth, juicy gossip, and fashion forward blend together marvelously here.

Take a peak:

Clutch Magazine: fashion.beauty.life.culture

Oshun to the Rescue!

a reminder to black women.

Venus who?

No call me Oshun.

Show you what?

How dynamic I am?

How genius I am?

Why?

So you can betray me?

Disregard and praise me all in the same blink

as you did Sarah Baartman.

Or rather put me up for show on your magazines

and claim it as your art, creating my demise.

No, I'd rather not.

You'll have to excuse me

I got a flock of Oshuns

I must see to.

See the forgot to include me in your fairytales.

My darlings Cinderella does not love you!

I am divine.

I disregard your foolish definitions of what you don't understand.

I am mother of ALL.

The reason you dance.

Black women you are Black gold.

This world may forget you but when you retreat with me you shall see why I weep for you and what you call life.

Now I offer you harmony.

Be me.

"i never knew a love, love quite like this.."

Once I insisted on punishing my mind for acts I knew to be wrong forgetting I serve a forgiving God, a healing God. I always claimed self love but allowed bad judgements to torture me. I discovered real self love. Giving me the untainted spirit a child has before they realize they are a she or a he, before they realize if they need big tits or a big dick. Like before the chocalote girl was told she was pretty for a chocalote girl, before the world offered its sweet poison. love thyself. self preservation is beyond survival but living with harmony and being fruitful. love. live. karma is love.

love yourself down to your dirty draws. haha

("You Are Here"by The Pairabirds, Tabitha Brown)

GeniusLady

The amazing Dawn Okoro engages us in a conversation unwillingly in her drawings. Each of her projects having their own purpose but all telling you that woman is power, woman is free, woman is sexuality, woman is everything. Without taking the deserved respect from sisters with relaxers, there is the honoring of the FRO which I admire most about her works. Like the body the fro can be fruppy, perfect, flat, round, everything. Her collections embody the message I want to give to those who will give me a moment, just be. To the left, "Breath Easy" of the Power project.

Partake:
http://www.dawnokoro.com/

"Shine 2" of the Crown and Glory project.

desire.

love lying next to creation breathed romance in the air
with an innocent desire joining in our minds our flesh began to dance

dance to a rhythm we could only hear

we both in that moment desperately wanted to create more "we's"
even if it was filled with pure lust

not caring if tomorrow monring a few sighs would come to
but still amazingly still smiling

loving love
loving this space

embracing
tempted
you dared to sing with me again

dance

Hollyweerd- Ur Smile (Full Version)

Black Dynamite, worth the listen folks!

FroLove

I'm a sucka for fros! Dryden Goodwin captures the pure energy of a fro. No fancy work just magic. Peak at number 27 of the series.

http://adebanjialade.blogspot.com/search/label/AFRO%20SERIES

His website:
http://drydengoodwin.com/

poisonous.

beware of all the things that appear harmless but intend to poison us. they may appear in thoughts, friends, behaivor, entertainment, and in your own home. one by one they pull us to their victory. resist. as we love the world the world doesn't love us constantly. don't blend these harmless appearances with what you know to be love. let them stand out boldly.

I GOT SOUL! 'The Pairabirds'

Tabitha Brown, the creative drive behind The Pairabirds, is able to offer you the perfect amount of soul in her artwork. Her funky pieces are fused with Asain influences and diverse look as well, but don't be confused the funk still rises. Check out her website:

The Pairabirds: Art by illustrator Tabitha Bianca Brown

She also has a flickr account is updated frequently with gorgeous sketches and projects. Take a peak:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/thepairabirds/4732977029/

Big Boi - Shutterbugg ft. Cutty

The Roots - Hustla **Bonus Track** How I Got Over

Jazmine Sullivan - Holding You Down (Dirty)

sensational.

yea, i talk with a twang. i say yall, folks, auntie, brotha, and ain't. just tryin to show you my undeiable roots. don't be the fool to mistake my genius.

i can take the average greeting and sum it up to, how u? and no one would dare question the meaning.

our time loving pace has somehow been mistakened for slow. somewhere wires got crossed cause we have random overflows of these city folks.

but i dare a one to deny the peace of mind and ease of simple pleasure you feek once you enter these southern quarters.

neither will their hips deny the smile they have when their mouth is full of collards, chopped bbq, potato salad, and sweet pies.

we'll even give them somethin to groove to. liqour house music blarring on the porch as its patrons pull on memories of your favorite drunk uncle that paste a grin on your face.

simply put there is nothing better than the tobacco and cotton patches my folks use to work, there is nothing better than grandpas old store, nothing better than walks up grannies path filled with smell of life. simply put there is nothing better than our over developed lips and hips, home churned ice cream and perseves.

combined i call this a southern delight, overwhelming your senses to an ultimate rise.

same soul.

i promise that i will give him the beauty of love, of creation. i will give him the mirror image of his manhood. i will show him where him source is. so he can come to me when he is not strong, when he is bare to see every reason in my eyes, in my womb, in the dips of my body why he is man.

music.

sing to me
a song that makes me quiver
that makes me think just why there ain't a negro who could resist the groove
resist the rhythm
even when it means they dancing to their own death
ain't gone go quietly
ain't gone die with this song in me
ima leave it here for all my folks
follks that don't have a soul to cry out for them
folks that still haven't caught their own rhythm
folks that can't hear their own song
and my folks that have yet to come
come all come now
imma light this wicked path of survival for you
trust me
hold close to me
follow my light
imma sing you to me

selfish.

tell me
preach to me
love me
touch me
kiss me
think of me
build me
recognize me
hug me
come close to me
treat me
smell me
be me
dance with me
be strong for me
miss me
create with me

a letter to my match

revolutionary.

to those whos nostrils have yet to flare. be armed or be harmed. you must prepare your shield. this country is shielded by the law to where us low down folks can't understand their cowardly language. claiming to know ethics but they wrote the dictionary too. define yourself. claim yourself.help yourself. this is when our chains will fall off. can't wait for hypocrisy to give you real freedom though our feet are dirty of the land of prosperity and freedom.

succulent.

i wrote you a song you refused to hear. a song that only if you parted your ears for me would make you quiver. quiver with a lust for my presence, for knowing; something even the gods couldn't dream up. a flame that won't abondon me until its answered with only the will to know the rhythm of the tale i have for you. and even if its only true when you listen i'd still bow for you. will you listen? i promise you'll never find a sweeter song.

prove it to yourself.

we're all searching for that moment, that flaw, or those words to claim whatever we fill in our spirits. these things are the proof we think we need. the proof we want to give folks. and when the lights come on have these folks have nothing to do with our success. realizing we are the only proof we need. we are brilliant, genius, unmeasurable souls who have become consumed with definitions and understanding. free yourself.

queendom.

meeting greatness is as scary as birth
teacher look at me clueless
but i continue to sit quietly not interrupting their ignorance
because surely they won't interrupt my greatness, my genius
they been told me long time ago they hiding my freedom, my divineness in a book
the day i found it i was all nerves and smiles
like the image of opening the holy book and all its light shining out, blinding
i am great
i am his reflection
like erykah sings out into us, if we were made in his reflection the call us by our names
the power they been trying to wash out since before america was thought of
before america got dipped in our blood
its in our blood, blood memory
something they so far from they can't even internalize but amazingly we cling to
i am the newest negro addition
call me negro sunshine
now bow down