TOUCH HUNGRY: CHAPTER ONE – SHORT STORY

Frankia Krane collected the small shovel, potting soil and a terra cotta planter pot set from the garden supply shop. She took her time looking at all the indoor plants in the nursery. There was a vivid array of selections all about her and every time she passed a plant she wants that very one, then two steps ahead she would fall in love with another plant.

She finally came upon a plant that was very unique from the others. The leaves were similar to that of a snake plant or Dracaena Trifasciata. Snake plants usually have speckles of green and cream colors, naturally detailed in natural waves and ripples with long, tall blades for leaves that look as though they want to reach for the sky. The only difference is that the other plant bared leaves with a texture like that of a lizard or reptile, with splotches in spectrums of browns and greens, with varying tones commencing from the very tips of the leaf to where it connected to its roots, hidden in the rich dark brown soil. The tag on the pot read, Dracaena Valiveal, also known as the Sliver Leaf Plant.

As though the plant’s leaf was charmed, Frankia instantly became compelled to caress the Sliver plant’s leaves. The texture of the leaves instantly incited an emotional response from Frankia. While she stood there near the table, stroking the leaves of this two-foot tall plant, she did not care if anyone was watching her. Though not far in distance, the store clerk, an aged woman stood watching her as she smoothed and massaged the plant’s blossoms. A cooing sound escaped Frankia’s lips, and a calm and nurturing feeling washed over her mind and body. She was not consciously aware of herself in this moment. There was also a cautionary note below this plant’s name that read, “please do not touch.”

“Excuse me ma’am, can I help you” The older woman who was on staff at the garden shop offered.

“I was looking for a new houseplant…and I think I found the perfect one!” Frankia responded.

“Well,” said the employee, “This one is a new species, similar to the snake plant that its origins are from the Congo Basin.”

“Congo? You mean in Africa? Well…”

The clerk spoke abruptly. “Oh yes. They both have origins in that region of Africa but the Sliver Leaf grows specifically in Equatorial Guinea, deep in the rainforest…growing wild, but still very rare.”

Frankia only blinked, then her attention went back to the plant.

“Oh and please do not touch it. Just water occasionally and we have a specific liquid…serum that helps with its nourishment. If you would like to purchase it, I’m available to receive your payment.” The little old lady said then motioned towards the direction of the cash register. Frankia immediately picked up the plant pot and followed the little old lady to the front of the garden shop.

TO BE CONTINUED…😬

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER TWO

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her in January 2021 (C)

All What It Seems -Poetry

Camera poised for poses of smiles and laughter

Concealing a union’s sunset

In a horizon of demise

Portraits foreshadowing tragedy

The fights that brewed and rumbled before

The capture of curled lips with crooked intentions

Memories to play the perfect role

For an audience of none

All rights go to Juana M. Gumbs as her original poem. 01/04/2021

Blog – Behind The Mask…The Hidden

Our bodies withhold organs and things. Fluids, secretions and bacteria all at work to keep us from meltdowns and combustion. We grow from babe to adult and neglect what is within us…apart from the known, the spirits we harbor. The Hidden, the one watching through our eyes that witness all and everything, collecting all data within the black box which is our subconscious. You can access that knowledge.

The Hidden is of an energy that is indestructible, that can only be recycled in a process called reincarnation. Hindu, Buddhism, Taoism and many ancient cultures believed in this universal law where as energy cannot be destroyed but converted or transferred. The Hidden divinity extents itself beyond the five senses of our physiology. That sixth sense, the ability for us to sense danger and consciousness through self realization.

Now, this is not a supernatural tale, it is real life. The reality of us all. I don’t want to suppose that perhaps the you, you think is you, was perhaps someone else. Or you are the creation of an entity beyond your comprehension. All this time as you grew, you were experiencing all as though it was your very first time. Your first bike, your first kiss, your first job and so on, believing every bit of it and accepting your limitations as a body bound entity.

One way to reach out to this conscious and aware entity is through meditation. In this state, the Hidden is eventually revealed through time and practice. Please research more on meditation on your own. I practice different meditation techniques through my religious practice. But at first meditation can be difficult. Do not give in, you can achieve this access to your inner self. One technique is to shut the world out by sitting quietly, upright in a chair, listening to your heartbeat and breathing from the diaphragm slowly. Allow yourself to focus on your breathing alone. Now in some cases you can chant, but in most cases the focus on the breathing should be enough. I cannot say when the Hidden will reveal itself to you, because everyone’s experience will be different. Eventually, you will engage with this higher consciousness and in that union all will be revealed to you.

The Start Off…Go!

I’m writing in a place of rawness and genuine excitement as this is the 1st day to conscious living for me. I’m in the bed still of course…had a night at a party (which reminded me of how much of an introvert I am) and it definitely showed me a lot about myself. One thing being that I’m usually nervous or aren’t open to meeting new people or letting them easily into my life. As of now, I really want to life a life consciously, meticulously analyzing what I do and why. Today’s a start to live with less fear and more grit to take life in a different direction than before. I am the only enemy to myself at times, the only one stopping me, is myself through setting limitations, self sabotage and allowing distractions to wrench me from my own greatness. I discovered that I have the tools, but their inactive mostly.

Everyday should be an opportunity to make changes to oneself, mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually. It’s like having all corners of direction about you , such as East, West, North and South. I want to add to myself in each direction daily. Lately, I became aware that just existing is not enough. Being that I can sometimes be flighty, unpredictability predictable (more on that another time) spirited away easily by distractions and always extreme with love and laughter. I need to consciously provide balance to myself. I’m standing on my feet now and the next move is on me.

Let’s see how this living consciously lifestyle works this month. My challenge is to live and live with steps to getting up and what happens after I walk of the door into unlimited possibilities.

NOTE: It is good to try something new and it is not always set by a particular instance. First step is on you.

Blog – How I Plan on Saving Myself #2: Failure and Picking Yourself Up Again

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.” -Shakespeare’s Macbeth

Macbeth is my favorite Shakespearean play and we know what end came to the character, though he had goals and with his goals came failure and ruin…but with goals most of us do not prepare for failure. Most of us, our goals don’t end in ruin but yet we do not plan for those obstacles that may impede our path to accomplishing success. We visualize what must be done and by the end of day one, we are ready to either quit and/or exit promptly. Have you encountered this before?

So, I fell off last week with my first “how to save myself challenge” on meditation. Yes, I felt like Macbeth in that soliloquy, acknowledging my failure but I am working to recover this week. Getting back into the discipline of meditation is not quite as easy as it was over 8 years ago when I practiced diligently. At that time, meditation was also a part of my practice along with my spirituality. I have lost my path again even with that (looking into the vast nebula which is made of me).

Moving forward and getting back on track towards that goal is often put off for another day. Then you try again and feel empowered that the next day you have accomplished what you set out to do with laser focus. A week has gone by and you haven’t skipped a day of your dedicated purpose. Your pace is as steady as a heartbeat, not erratic or slowed.

At first, with your goal set, you then decide attainment and timeframe. Such examples are saving for three months for a new car or reduce that belly fat to a sexy midriff for summertime or build-a-business using these successful tips and steps to financial freedom. In any case, no one leaves room for the fumble, the failure or the agony of defeat. Nobody realizes that they can fall and get back up again, tomorrow. And it is alright. Trust me when I say it is and don’t stop getting up after it all.

These are my original thoughts…life lessons and fumbles. I’ll being posting on my journey. Please subscribe for original content and leave a comment if you like!

12/7/2020 #Untitled Poem

Here comes night

I, tortured

Fighting sleep again

Which becomes

Too familiar

To the demon, Death

And falling, falling

Memories lost to a trickling end

But alive outside the reaches

Of the outer realms beyond me

Lost sense of self

Obliterated by the varied roles

In dynamic technicolor

Steadily played like

Keys on a Casio.

Everything is melodic until…

Every key harmonizing

Crescendoing into tones of doom

Who am I this time?

Time the illusionist

With it comes lessons learned

Titled the best trickster

The foe and if grasped right

The fiend that swallows

All semblance of your sanity

POEM: Familiarity

Feeling around in the dark

We found you

Shapelessness

We placed hands together

Formed you

When it was posed as impossible

We held on

Time allowed and kept up

We profound

A melody fortunate

Trapped in the minds of those that we touch

And we touch

Often

Thank you so much for visiting for a while. Please feel free to send a note and like!

This original blog post and poem was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. May 2020 (C)

POEM: Why Blood Needs Tears

Veins are no different from tear-ducts

They flow despite themselves keeping us sustained

The return necessary for the process to continue

Even though it may be from dread or fate

Pain in the delay of the cycle

Of growth and grown and gone

We push pull and hesitate

Stifle

But still they come down your face

Blinding

Not without the lack of blood

Thank you for reading this spontaneous overflow. Please feel free to like and comment, even criticisms are welcome.

This original blog post and poem was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. April 2020 (C)

DREAMSCAPE: YOU ONLY VISIT ME IN MY DREAMS NOW (Short Story)

Strange, I became accustomed to dreams of you pleasuring yourself with other women. Some of their faces blurred, others were women that we knew. Genie of my dreams, you are my reality and within my reality you are pristine. I could not understand why my subconscious missunderstood you to being unfaithful.

Now you only visit me in my dreams. In reality, you started a fire in me and now it is too much, you want to back out. In this dream I had a few hours ago, the reality was different. You came to me in my dreams. You entered into my home while I slept soundly in my bed. I was nude under the covers, but you only watched me. Then I stirred and you came into my view. Genie, I was elated to see you and you came into the bed with me and we rolled around in my giant bed together. We laughed and smiled at each other. The sunbeams glowed around you and the moon reflected from your eyes. I caressed your face, my fingers drizzled over your beard. I kissed and held you tighter. You mde me feel in this dream that there is hope in us. I looked up at you as you stood at the edge of the bed, Genie. You stood radiant, more brilliant than ever and I cried.

I woke, being both in awe and saddened because In being a wake, I realize that I have lost you. Possibly forever. You will never remember the good times we did share.

Thank you for reading about my dream I had just this afternoon.

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her April 2020 (C)

SHORT STORY: Trouble Travels Down De Road

Ivy came out of her house and exclaimed, “dis day so hot and steamy!” Then, she sighed and faking a faint, she set her sights on the open road. She thought to herself, no child in the neighborhood would dare run on this burning road without slippers today. It was late in the afternoon on the island of St. Croix and unless you were sitting near the beach or waterfronts on either side of this tropical island, you would not feel a breeze bless your cheek nor forehead right now. Even the candy lady, Ms. Bernadette, down the road ran out of lemonade as well as soursop ice-pop! With even the slightest of movement, beads of sweat would rise upon the thinnest skin in places to give pause…

Here comes Big Marjorie, walking down the road with her large brown purse, silver hoop earrings and can be seen from a distance with her colorful display. Her updo and waterfall curls with her bangs were swooped to the side. As she marched downhill, all of her extended belly and curves bouncing as she hasten her steps. Ivy met Ms. Mary on the porch of her house. With a scowl on her face, Ivy said, “Whey she tink she goin’?” As Marjorie came closer with footfalls as heavy as a mighty juggernaut, you can see her pink and yellow “Sunday’s Best” dress shuffling in the breeze…

Ivy couldn’t help herself, she said to Ms. Mary, “Buh wait, whey da breeze come from?” Swiftly, Marjorie passed the neighbor’s houses on both sides of the road.

Again, Ivy blurted out to Ms. Mary, “Meson, she lucky no minibus was passin’ ‘cause she tek up the hole road like ah float in ah parade! She woulda geh bounce down foh sure. Marjorie ain geh no sign on she sayin’ ‘butt meh down please’!?!” Ivy laughed loud and hard. Ms. Mary only look at Ivy over her bifocal glasses, nodding her head.

Marjorie continued on her way to her destination, a big bright smile on her face, her lips were cherry red. In truth, Ivy nor Ms. Mary could guess what was the final destination of Marjorie this summery evening. They sat on the porch most days to “pung melee” or gossip about their neighbors around them. They would mostly make up tales from heresy or create their own curry to the mix. This evening it was to make up a story behind the mood of Big Marjorie.

“Well, she look well swell in she dress, mama. Maybe someting goin’ on down de road we don’ kno’ ‘bout?” Ms. Mary began. “Maybe we ain heh ‘bout it?” She offered to Ivy. Instantly, Ivy frowned. She was still wearing her sleep bonnet on her head, she frowned hard with her cigarette butt hanging in the right corner of her mouth. Then her lips pursed hard now as she took another puff from the ciggie. Ivy’s chestnut eyes turned dark and narrowed, then she cusssed. “Deh bettah not be havin’ no party I wasn’t invited toh, cause I neeeeeeeeeeeed toh be dey. How she more importan’ dan meh!”

Like a cyclone, Ivy whisked her way into her room for 10 minutes. There was all sorts of sounds that come from it, such sounds a small storm would make. When she emerged, she was wearing her long red thin strapped sundress, hugging her slim figure. The bonnet hid her thick and long brown, sun-touched locks. Those locks now drizzled down her shoulders and back. On her narrow feet, her gold sandals shone as though they were from mount Olympus and her smile, though her teeth slightly yellowed from her constantly smoking, were straight…her lips painted with bronze.

“Aye-Aye,” Ms. Mary croaked. “Yoh ain geh meh ah chance toh come out.” So she ran in her own house as quick as a mongoose and sprint back 3 minutes flat with a short pixie-cut wig and an eggshell colored daring pants suit. “I ready!” She bellowed out. So now, both ladies hurried down the road wondering who was having fete without them. They both were vex but excited to see who is going to want to dance with them. In their own minds, they fantasized about who else will be there. If they will have cruzan rum or Hennessy to drink with they coke? They even wondered who they will cuss and fuss at for not inviting them. Ivy let out under her breath, “is ah dam shame!” Then, her mimic, Ms. Mary squeeze out through her missing teeth, “Issa dam shame, foh true!”

They both hot on the pursuit of Big Marjorie and this party…but lost Big Marjorie’s trail. Then, they both found themselves standing in the middle of a cluster of several homes. Ivy looked at Mary, Mary looked right back at Ivy…there was no way for them to figure out which house Marjorie duck in and out of sight! This made Ivy’s face turn red with embarrassment. “She gave us deh slip!” They then walked by all the houses in the area listening for music, not a jam in earshot!

Both ladies were vex, roaming along the road, sneaking from house to house…eventually, they quietly moved through the now dark street and came upon a small white house. It was so tiny, but there was faint soca rhythm sounds filtering through the air. They followed and got up really close to the house to listen. The soca music grew louder the closer they came to the front porch. Ivy started excitedly swinging her hips already in anticipation, Ms. Mary started to get on bad, throwing her hips and wide bottom in a swaying motion. “Dis is it!” They both thought. They were working up their waists, following the music and advancing up the white steps onto the porch. The door was unlocked, so they both swing on through, their eyes tightly closed and faces in passionate expressions while they worked up and danced. They came in the house bawling, “PARTY!” and then opened their eyes to now find Big Marjorie naked in the living room on top of a very old and skinny gentleman. “Oh shit!” Ivy and Ms. Mary bawl out in unison.

Thank you for reading this short story. It was inspired from my upbringing in the Virgin Islands and my Caribbean background. I wanted to share a bit of our dialect with the world. Please leave comments and constructive criticism or critiques.

This original blog post and short story was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. April 2020(C)