Looking in the Mirror

Spiritual Revelations for those seeking Humanity in Humans ~~CordieB.

How velvety, sensual is my touch, oh how my essense calms weary souls – A Spritual Riddle


As I began to blossom, seemingly right before your very eyes;  
You were mesmerized by my beauty; such sweet, sultry innocence and no one denies;
My velvety sensuality, Oh how my radiant essense always calms weary souls!
So I was at first handled ever so delicately, as my loveliness began to unfold.  

Soon you desired to take me home with you; keep me, care for my all and all-
But your desires only stagnated me; caused my demise and made me fall
too quickly from the grace and beauty that you find so appealing;
My once vibrant colors of life soon vanished due to my silent unwilling . . .
to be seized, exploited, kept and displayed like a prize.
I wanted be free to be me; to sing with the moon, dance with the skies;
And I’m wise enough to realize once my tender splendor begins to decay – 
You will no longer desire me; you’ll simply toss me aside; cast me away. 

So why is it you insisted to keep me from my joys and my natural flow;
From the freedom to sway gently like the leaves; feel the warm winds blow.
Why didn’t you allow me to sing in the sunshine, dance in the grass,
Fall asleep with the stars, awaken with the morning dew, less I surpass. 

When you removed me from my destiny, I became, so sad, then angry and resistent;
I tried to fight back.  I even drew blood from your being, but still you persisted and insisted. . .
To keep me from my natural light; to intrap me as your grand, precious accolade . . .
Only to discard me once my God given beauty begin to drop, wilt, and fade. 

I used to blow your mind each time you passed me, with my sweet aromic essense;
You would stroke me so gently, allways plotting to remove me from my presense.
I tried to warn you, often bristling and whistling, "I will not last, I can not grow!"
But in your selfish love, you still cut me off from what sustained my natural glow. 

I tried to make you understand, I could love and make you happy; yet remain free-
But you insisted on controlling my existence, your version of showing  adoration for me!
Now I’m slooped over in agony, waiting to be returned to whence I was born
I’m am yesterday’s dazzling sensation and beauty, I am . . .(click below for answer) 
Picked Red Roses with Thorns.
By CordieB.

God Bless the Child

Strange Fruit



  SanityFound wrote @

Wow out of societies clutches and to inner higher selves is where we ultimately we need to return, that and God – Beautifully put Cordie! As you say Peace Light Love MWAH!

  cordieb wrote @

SF, I wish I could take the credit, but I really was speaking of picked roses with thorns this time. (smile ). I compared us picking roses to over consuming lovers- and sort of expanded it via Billy Holiday, to exploitation – but I must say they are all one and the same – all derived from selfishness, insecurities, and the need to control – most certainly not from real love for the beautiful roses; for if we loved them we would let them grow not cut them from their life source. Peace, Light and Love, Mwah! CordieB.

  SanityFound wrote @

A different way of thinking about it I like it – put a smile on my face and something to ponder for the day as always 🙂

  johnnypeepers wrote @

I love how you tied Billie’s songs in to this (especially Strange Fruit). I know you know what that song is about, but many have no clue (black lynchings in the South).

Life’s most precious aspects are fragile and fleeting.

  cordieb wrote @

@Peeps. Yes, I know. I also know she was banned to sing the truth; but sung the song regardless of what people did or said. Billy was a brave woman with a loving soul. Her bravery may have costs her some fans and so-called friends, for which she seemed to be saddened; however it never costs her soul! Her spirit lives on for eternity!
Bless you Peeps, and all who share your loving spirit! CordieB.

  Glenn wrote @


In my book, you are a genius — a very creative, loving individual.

Personally, I would have guessed you were referring to drugs. Why? Because that was really close to the vest.

When the Peeper mentioned the Black lynchings in the old South, my mood went that direction as well. As a Caucasian, I still feel so sick about it. Those white Southerners while a real embarrassment to my entire family when I was growing up.

As you know, I lived in Georgia for 11 years. When I first got there, a new younger generation had made a significant impact on the slow process of changing the culture. But the older generations, the rednecks in particular, never changed. They just had to shut up and grudgingly accept their world was being flushed down the toilet by far more intelligent, compassionate people half and even one-third of their age..

That was in 1980. Today, so many Northerners have moved there over the years. Between them and my native Georgian friends, much has changed. One older generation dropped dead (not too soon I might add) and the other is too old to have any impact on that society.

In fact, the major fork in the road there nowadays is the Religious Right, who refuse to bend in their spiritual intolerance.

But hell, at least they’re not hanging any non-Christian spiritual people.

BTW: I don’t know if you ever heard Blood, Sweat & Tears version of “God Bless The Child,”
but check it out. I was in high school when it was released. I think you will love you’ll love it and admire its production.

  cordieb wrote @

@Glenn. You should not feel sickened. You are not to blame. The past is the past – I like to look at people for who they are now! I love your kind spirit, and loving attitude. Don’t waste another valuable ounce of your positive energy feeling sicked about the past – it is time we took control of our lives and stop making excuses for much of the crap we bring upon ourselves. Anywho . . . Choose life and love over all else. Thanks for your compassion – stay real. CordieB.

  Glenn wrote @

Thanks Cordie. Here is the hyperlink for the Blood, Sweat and Tears rendition of “God Bless the Child.”

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