Author: queendinard

The thing with Naked Truth is that it leaves you exposed, even when you’ve hidden it from yourself and others. It strips you bare of every bit of shyness while you are in its presence and forces you to acknowledge every inch of its existence.

So Celine embraced her reality and basked in its openness. Jean-Jacque’s world would never meet that of Jules, but they were both vital to Celine’s continuity. They were the air she required to adequately thrive within her Eros realm and complete her circle of comfort and romance. They were the two sides of the coin she carried around in her purse of Heart Treasures. She had to have them both. It was not going to be any other way.

Jules held the flaming torch that, once lit, always ignited and maintained its intense burn and shine, light and star, that propelled Celine into an outer orbit of utter bliss, ecstasy and satisfaction. He never failed once to dim his light, dull his shine or erode his sharpness. More so, his effect on Celine always took her to the next level of efficiency and effectiveness. Her craft was perfected with every one of his touches and with him, she new no deficiency, no sub-standard, no lack. Added to that, her bold and energetic side was always alive.

Jean-Jacques, on-the-other hand, embodied the essential oils that totally soothed and eased the muscles of disquiet, perfumed her senses of calm and tranquillity, setting her gently down in a place of repose. His entire aura and demeanour was the perfect aphrodisiac for a wrenched and stripped soul that must be fitted snugly back into its space. Celine had to have him! She needed him! His adeptness and thoroughness in the most genteel manner was exactly what she needed to take her to that sanctuary of quiet bliss.

Celine’s being was inextricably linked to both spheres and there was no living without either of them. To pretend that neither of them were vital, would simply be a bare-faced lie and a denial of what makes one whole and real. The Naked Truth had done what it did, shown its face and stamped its seal. So yes, she was content in herself that in very different spaces, realities and times, the Naked Truth reigned prominently and royally.

How should she proceed? How was she to unhinge herself? Or should she, really? And did she honestly want to be ripped away from this strange reality that had cemented its pillars into her core?

Celine’s pulses raced. The heaving in her chest threatened to wrench her heart out of its wall. She became drenched with waves of Overwhelm, and for a brief moment needed to steady her feet. But the Naked Truth simply stared stark cold back at her with a determined and resolute stance.

Snapping back into conscious reality, Celine knew what she needed to do. It was all so simple! Acceptance! Both Worlds had set themselves high up on her heart’s throne, had completely enveloped her being with a depth and warmth she wished not to part with. Her senses were held captive by this novelty, leaving her emotions completely at its mercy.

With a full burst of renewed excitement, eagerness and zest, Celine slid comfortably into Jean-Jacques world. There, she sipped the tea of gentle bliss that had been poured from this warm pot. The kindness and smile in his eyes drew her in magnetically as she curled up in his presence and lay there peacefully. The moments were so refreshing and calming that Celine felt absolutely no desire to leave.

However, she had to. The fiery passion and intense longing emitting from Jules’ presence, was too much to contain and Celine needed to heed the call. The urge, as strong as a raging sea during the height of a storm, tore her apart and there had to be some relief, release, even.

Leaping into his world was a must. Celine bounded toward him like a sped arrow certain to hit the mark. Once there, she drank in every drop of the passion that oozed from him, with an unbridled thirst that became quenched with an unprecedented thoroughness. Her elation and satisfaction reached new heights and Celine cherished every second.

The Naked Truth was the Naked Truth. Its strong grips had bound her tight and secure with double cords from different times, spaces, and realities.

And bliss it was, in the most magnetic and captivating manner possible; a phenomenon never imagined and certainly an experience as raw, sweet and alluring as it was new.

Jules was that perfect teacher and chef. He sampled with tender and delicate bites, every inch of Celine’s accommodating and ready being, intertwined with a fierceness and strength that left her giddy with fulfilment. At the same time, his professional and thorough approach in tutoring her were excellent to the point of her receiving full marks, once she was able to demonstrate and meet the objective of every lesson.

Celine treasured every single experience, savoured and relished the memories every day, every night. In her quiet, serene, solo reflective moments, she wondered how she had come to this place. How was it even possible that this hitherto, untouched delicate petal tightly bound among her other un-blossomed cohorts had come to this place of unfolding, blossoming and dripping with heavenly dewdrops from the expert touch of the skilled gardener? And to think that she had eagerly welcomed the novelty as a starved kitten hungry for her mother’s nutritious milk?

The reality hit her square in the face and Celine was helpless, at a loss for words and void of understanding for this strange development. So she simply drank it all in and thanked her lucky stars for bringing her to this place of allure, magical awareness and the awakening. It was an Awakening long overdue and Celine was glad that the time had come.

Yet, in the deepest corners of her dormant consciousness, the silhouette of Jean-Jacques lingered, even faintly so. Then in a most rare and uncanny emerging, his smiling eyes locked themselves with hers in a most trance-like fashion. His silence captivated her with a strange jolting and she tried to make sense of what that meant. Celine was dumbfounded! His presence seemed to penetrate her soul and she could not fathom the meaning of all this madness.

But the Naked Truth cannot be lost. It may take cover and repose, lie low and be still. Yet its presence remains as a stalwart, a bulwark, a strong reminder that in two very different places, two separate worlds, with two very different entities, the Truth would remain. The Naked Truth had locked Celine in and she was unable to untangle herself from its hold.

Someone wondered, asked, inquired, whether it was possible, that in two very distinct places, at two very different times, with two very unlike entities, the truth would exist, be real, or even a fact. Yet it indeed was that and Celine stood at the centre of both.

Never in her wildest dream, in the faintest segment of her imagination, the most remote parts of her subconsciousness did she envisage that NAKED TRUTH. She savoured both aspects with slow, tantalizingly delish sips, ensuring that they never left her and that the experiences remained firmly etched in the deepest recesses of her being.

First, the gentle tugging of amorous strings strummed playfully and sweetly on her heart like a Spanish Guitar on a quiet Caribbean Night by the seaside, where the sultry waves lapped quietly on the shore, hugging them with soothing caresses. There was Jean-Jacques, the warmest, and kindest of them. His deep mahogany hue, dancing, smiling eyes juxtaposed with an intensely piercing, yet mellow gaze, melted her like butter and made her knees wobbly. She was at the mercy of this novelty and although both entities said nothing the chemistry was evident. Their hidden fires burned with a vivacity unmatched but Jean-Jacques remained completely respectful, a perfect, but attentive gentleman. Celine was hopeless at hiding her blushes, but retained her composure expertly. Both entities worked along side by side on a higher plain in unspoken unison.

Then there was the distinct, yet careful fluttering of wings, twittering enticingly nearby in the trees of passion, while the air was showered with waterfalls of impending ecstasy hitherto untapped. In the shadows stood Jules, seemingly uncertain of his moves. But the air was tick with desire and he penetrated her soul with kind, gentle eyes that roamed her body with a coy fierceness. His lips, full and definitely inviting, distracted and captured Celine, simultaneously, as he approached her. For an excruciatingly long time, the two ignored the inevitable but eventually, she was helpless at resisting the intoxicating and irresistible aura of that novelty. The chemistry was too evident to fake and eventually, the two had to come clean. Celine moved slowly and daintily to the intoxicating allure of fiery passion as both entities merged their beings with a deafening silence of bliss.

Emerging, Learning, Maturing; I am Myself. I know that more forcefully than ever before and I am Proud of that.

Imagine a timid, extremely shy, introverted girl whose loves were books and dolls throughout the first ten years of her life, whose focus was doing well in school, pleasing others and being pretty much being in her own world; That was me, the quiet one or as my mother put it, very recently, TEBEH. I winced inwardly as she said that and flashes of childhood moments popped up briefly in the eyes of my mind. The phrase, FATHER knows BEST suddenly became MOTHER knows WHAT perhaps because many times as I skipped around on Juvenile Playground, stones of cowardice, fear and docility had pelted me into a cave where I had remained because I thought it was a safe and expected abode.

As I continued along EMERGING Road and found solace in its Garden, my timidity lingered, as did my shyness. Sure, I was kind and respectful to others, paid attention to human dignity, and continued to focus on academic excellence. Largely, I did not openly address or challenge issues, some of which directly impacted me. The effect turned out to be me, missing out on opportunities, being taken for granted and feeling badly inwardly. However, my introversion, seemed to abate just a tad bit where only a selected few were allowed in my circle. I was learning to let in others but when I noticed other people and their obnoxious behaviour, I just stayed clear of them. I seemed to know then what I wished not to tolerate, in certain instances, that is. But the rosebuds, were waiting to bloom fully. Although the ants sometimes crawled around from time to time, and weeds threatened to cause overgrowth, the showers provided a richness of soil, clean air and ample water for fresh blooms.

Slowly, I began making my way across to LEARNING CURVE and my self-awareness heightened. Gradually, the buds began blossoming with radiance and my timidity was lowered in huge amounts. Certainly, my sense of RHEAL took more prominence. Respect, honour, encouragement, appreciation and love expanded as did academic and professional mobility, which continued to be high up on my list. The shy, timid girl , now adult woman, was well on her way. My journey to Fifty-six was looking interesting and proving to be rather exciting,. Yes my circle widened selectively still and my introversion did not seem to be such an issue. Ants were more minute and the weeds were uprooted promptly. I was breathing clear, fresh air and the feeling was exhilarating.

Now I bask in MATURE GARDEN. And might I add that there is a RADIANCE in MATURITY too. My journey to FIFTY-SIX has been an approved and appreciated lesson that I have not regretted one bit. I am SICQ. I am a strong, independent confident queen whose introversion is no longer a bother. My circle yet selective, is well-chosen and my shyness has been re-channelled into a new creativity. As those juices flow, I am in fact very brave. I still believe in RHEAL and the obsession with books has indeed paid off. I am not afraid to challenge when and if I must. I am learning to be discerning. My sense of peace, joy and calm is now more acute and I strive to maintain it while helping others do the same. When the ants appear, I deal with them. As the drizzles, showers and torrents come, I am prepared to handle them as best as I can. The ROSEBUDS are BLOOMING. I am MYSELF. I am QUEEN ROZE.

The subject of Abortion is one that sparks much controversy, re; LIFE/CHOICE. Whatever your view, it is certain that you may want to justify it with plausible arguments.

For those leaning toward the LIFE stand, the position is that life begins at conception and that snuffing it out, could be tantamount to sacrilege and, or, murder. Some middle-liners may take the view that in specific instances, the cessation of that life is acceptable in rare circumstances like those in which the life of the mother is at stake, or the pregnancy is in the very initial stages. Those who stand on the CHOICE platform are vehement in the view that a woman has the right to choose what happens to her body, that the foetus is only a clump of undeveloped cells among others.

But what if that foetus, child, clump of cells were given the right to speak out and have a point of view. Just what would the words be like.

The following is an original piece that I wrote in the voice of that un-birthed child, echoing his/her affirmation of being A CHILD. They capture raw emotions and seem to question viewpoints. Whatever your views it cannot be denied those words, the words of the un-birthed child, are worth being heard.

I AM STILL YOUR CHILD; an un-birthed child Speaks.

 Hidden deep in the live recess of your liquid parts, protected, cushioned and emerging;

I am waiting. To complete my form, to meet my mom;

But I was broken into morsels, dissolved, erased, blanked out; because I did not to fit into your plan

BUT I AM STILL YOUR CHILD

Striving strong in the live recess of your liquid parts, covered, fed and completely whole;

I swim, waiting. To complete my term, to no longer be alone;

But I was suctioned out, hosed away, torn loose, removed; because I was not your or his choice

BUT I AM STILL YOUR CHILD

Conscious and awake in the live recess of your liquid parts, alert, aware and breathing;

I move around, waiting. To be part of your world, to be welcome into the fold;

But I was cruelly wrenched, bloodied, battered, discarded; because your body was more important than my life

BUT I AM STIL YOUR CHILD

So when you lay at night trying to sleep, and thoughts of me pop up from deep memory slots in your being, you toss and turn in vain to obliterate them;   Do remember that I AM STILL YOUR CHILD

As you laugh and joke around with your peers in that click, trying hard to fit in with those elite chicks and memories of my life jerk you into reality; Please remember that I AM STILL YOUR CHILD

Written by Rosemond Dinard-Gordon

June 26^th 2021

Often when one of our favourite actors/actress plays a villainous role that triggers our response we are incensed and irate. I must admit, that when I saw Denzel Washington in FENCES, I was not very happy, nor was I impressed. I abhorred his role and was angry with him in on several fronts. I must say though that I fully understand his stand, but might have not, a few years earlier. Viola Davis, who played his wife, struck some cords in me as well, hence the aforementioned title. I saw her as subservient and to laid back, yet immensely strong and forward minded, kind and conscientious.

But, should she, he, they and would you or I, given their situation. Here was Denzel, a hardworking man yet somehow stuck in a dead end job, not much going on for him. He had a leaky roof that he had not bothered with in years, failed to complete a simple fence for too long and did not even see it necessary to purchase a television. He appeared affectionate enough to his wife but seemed unwilling, afraid or unable to show her his vulnerabilities, perhaps because of fear or ego and so found solace in the arms of another woman. While I hated that, I sort of understood his difficulty and felt a bit sorry for the man. He appeared broken and helpless in measuring up as a whole man to a wife who he claimed to loved and knew loved him.

Viola, on the other hand, was a dutiful, faithful wife who seemed to have accepted the simple , yet unfulfilled life of her husband in completing basic tasks, tried her hardest to make him feel comfortable, yet was unable to fill his void of helplessness. Additionally, she had not verbalised her own wishes maybe for fear of placing added pressure on him or simply because she though it was not acceptable as a wife. So she remained in a dead-end situation and finallly blew up when he confessed his malaise.

I watched her, a wounded dove with a broken wing that hung limp and irreparable when her husband stated his error. Then she with fury of a howling wind declared how she had repressed her dreams and aspirations to Stand with her Man. He, on the other hand, seemed at a loss for words, fearful of her reaction, yet expected her to understand his stance as he attempted to verbalise and even rationalise his doings. To me he appeared arrogant yet sheepish at the same time.

So the questions are;

Should she have ignored and abandoned her dreams and aspirations to live a simple state that brought no fulfilment, yet was her duty, she felt. Should she have remained faithful and dutiful to someone who was uncomfortable being vulnerable to her and preferred to take flight in the arms of another Belle, even forming a fruit. Should she have raised the child he brought , a defilement of their marriage vows. as her own . Should she have kept him in the house, unhappy, angry even, yet dutiful after the revelation.

Should he have remained content and relaxed in a dead end job that did not uplift his family and their status. Should he have chosen to find another to release his pressing matter, find solace when it was too much for him to carry. Should he have dared asked and expected her to stand with him while he found relief and then dared ask and expect her to raise that child,, that fruit sown by the way, rather in their garden both.

Should they have stayed together each with repressed dreams, eager vulnerabilities undisclosed yet heavily pregnant. Should they have loved each other, despite those chains that they wished not to share, yet which weighed them down painfully inside.

Would you if you were either of them, Would I if it were me. Just what would our vibe be like. Would we start a conversation, would we run away and not look back, would we be uncaring and violent, would we.

SHOULD SHE, SHOULD HE, SHOULD THEY, WOULD YOU, WOULD I.

Garden Conversations.