The cover and excerpt from new book which will be coming out paperback and at the end of 2014. This book contains real life experiences,stories, and poetry
Title: The Rack Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus ©2014
INTRODUCTION
If you have lived long enough in this chaotic world, playing your part in the game called life, you would know that it is only human to make mistakes. Some of us learn from our mistakes immediately and change. Some of us (For example, me) learn everything the hard way, because we are hard headed as old folks would say. We will not change unless we have NO other options to do things the way WE want to do them.
The irony of being human is we are well aware we are subject to make mistakes and have flaws, but we still all hold on to the false persona that we are “Perfect”, even when deep down inside we know we aren't. We hold tightly to our false perception of who are, sometimes judging others for their flaws, while forgetting that we are hiding ours from plain view
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
in honor of you
Title: In Honor of You
I feel the absence of your presence stronger when it rains
something about the gentle sound, roll of thunder, and lightening
stirs up old remains, emotions, and memories
I don't see clearly..now the rain is gone
You've been away long
The passion in my heart
I still have that for you.
We aren't together anymore
who'd knew? - Luchetta(Cookee) Manus ©2013
something about the gentle sound, roll of thunder, and lightening
stirs up old remains, emotions, and memories
I don't see clearly..now the rain is gone
You've been away long
The passion in my heart
I still have that for you.
We aren't together anymore
who'd knew? - Luchetta(Cookee) Manus ©2013
my dreams of you
Poem title: my dreams for you
Whispers of promises from a divine father's mouth,to the ears of flesh and bone pre destin for greatness.
Made a lil lesser than angels, the option to envision what he sees me as, is a matter of grabing and holding onto his dreams.
Trusting in half of the picture, which i can only see. The bigger picture is seen only by faith.
So overwhelmingly beautiful for one mind to absorb or intake. Knowing in later times there will be a completion of me
Living with a purpose is according to prophecy.
-Written by Luchetta(Cookee) Manus © 2013
full moon
Poem Title: Full Moon
Written by: Luchetta ( Cookee ) Manus © 2013
Hanging in the sky for the world to see
Every night it is Christmas.
Sworn to secrecy
The night air cannot whisper its knowledge
Entangled in clouds
Out shining smaller illuminations
Ruler of the evening
It is a light, sacred
A beacon of romance
An icon of majesty
Direction for the lost in transit
Confusion for those on journeys
Both curses and blessings
Set apart from the morning star
Its a shadow
In its own light
Every night it is Christmas.
Sworn to secrecy
The night air cannot whisper its knowledge
Entangled in clouds
Out shining smaller illuminations
Ruler of the evening
It is a light, sacred
A beacon of romance
An icon of majesty
Direction for the lost in transit
Confusion for those on journeys
Both curses and blessings
Set apart from the morning star
Its a shadow
In its own light
Written by Luchetta ( Cookee) Manus © 2013
Wash
When troubles take hold...
Misty eyes cleanses the soul- written by Luchetta(Cookee)Manus © 2013
Misty eyes cleanses the soul- written by Luchetta(Cookee)Manus © 2013
An excrpt from new book which will be coming out in the form paperback at the end of 2014
Title: They Call Us Crazy!
Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus ©
Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus ©
INTRODUCTION
If you have lived long enough in this chaotic world, playing the game called life, you would know that it is only human nature to make mistakes. Some of us learn from our mistakes immediately and change. Some of us (For example me) learn everything the hard way, because we are hard headed as old folks would say. We don't change unless we have NO other options to do things the way WE want to do them.
The irony of being human is we are awrae we are subject to make mistakes and have flaws, but we still all hold on to the false persona the we are "Perfect", even when deep down inside we know we aren't. We hold on to our false perception of who were really aren't, sometimes judging others for their flaws, forgetting that we are hiding ours from plain view. Becoming hypocrites. The sad part part is we judge and mistreat those who are struggling in an area or two in lives, because we have conquered the struggle in the are they are struggling in. Not keeping in mind that although we may have conquered an area or two we still have our hang ups and don't have any right to judge the next person. After all most people who judge cannot handle being judged themselves.
The human mind is an amazing part of the body, because we can never fully understand its function from person to person because we are all different, mind, body, and spirit. Noone knows the minds of men, but God. No matter what science come up with, the human mind will remain a mystery between man, the God who created it, and the environment which helped mold it. No two minds are alike.
Sometimes we conceal our thoughts in fear of being judged or labeled,"Crazy." When in reality, more people share our sometimes weird, warped, and twisted thoughts more than we think. Some are fearless and verbal, able to express their minds regardless of consequence. While, some are fearful and keep their thoughts to themseleves.
For me, people told me I was crazy for thinking what I was thinking sometimes, until I matured and found out there were more people like me, they were just trying to blend into the norm. So me hearing I was"Crazy" was nothing new to me. I found out that I was labeled by people who didn't share my abusive childhood or could not comprehend my background. I had to come to terms and be comfortable with who I was as a person. Then if someone called me, "Crazy" I learned to repond with, "Thank You." Understanding I wasn't crazy, I was just more brave to speak out than most.
In my first book I wrote, "The Spiritual Evolution of a Wounded Soul," I spoke of my journey to self after growing up in an abusive home environment as a child and how it cause me to become a writer, poet, and artist. This book is titled, "They Call Us Crazy," will show you how difficult it is for a person who has been abused struggle to think soundly. We don't grow up with a healthy mind as a person who has not experienced abuse. However, we can survive, we can live happy, and we can make it.
The irony of being human is we are awrae we are subject to make mistakes and have flaws, but we still all hold on to the false persona the we are "Perfect", even when deep down inside we know we aren't. We hold on to our false perception of who were really aren't, sometimes judging others for their flaws, forgetting that we are hiding ours from plain view. Becoming hypocrites. The sad part part is we judge and mistreat those who are struggling in an area or two in lives, because we have conquered the struggle in the are they are struggling in. Not keeping in mind that although we may have conquered an area or two we still have our hang ups and don't have any right to judge the next person. After all most people who judge cannot handle being judged themselves.
The human mind is an amazing part of the body, because we can never fully understand its function from person to person because we are all different, mind, body, and spirit. Noone knows the minds of men, but God. No matter what science come up with, the human mind will remain a mystery between man, the God who created it, and the environment which helped mold it. No two minds are alike.
Sometimes we conceal our thoughts in fear of being judged or labeled,"Crazy." When in reality, more people share our sometimes weird, warped, and twisted thoughts more than we think. Some are fearless and verbal, able to express their minds regardless of consequence. While, some are fearful and keep their thoughts to themseleves.
For me, people told me I was crazy for thinking what I was thinking sometimes, until I matured and found out there were more people like me, they were just trying to blend into the norm. So me hearing I was"Crazy" was nothing new to me. I found out that I was labeled by people who didn't share my abusive childhood or could not comprehend my background. I had to come to terms and be comfortable with who I was as a person. Then if someone called me, "Crazy" I learned to repond with, "Thank You." Understanding I wasn't crazy, I was just more brave to speak out than most.
In my first book I wrote, "The Spiritual Evolution of a Wounded Soul," I spoke of my journey to self after growing up in an abusive home environment as a child and how it cause me to become a writer, poet, and artist. This book is titled, "They Call Us Crazy," will show you how difficult it is for a person who has been abused struggle to think soundly. We don't grow up with a healthy mind as a person who has not experienced abuse. However, we can survive, we can live happy, and we can make it.
the definition of hate
Title: THE DEFINITION OF HATE
Written by Luchetta (Cookee) Manus
© 2014
© 2014
HATE:
Hate towards others is usually an indicator of an individual's own insecurities, which are redirected towards another.
Hate towards others is usually an indicator of an individual's own insecurities, which are redirected towards another.
Blaming others for their own short comings is easier than making changes to fix what is wrong with themselves in the inside.
old school
I was listening to some old school R&B and wrote this just now
Title: Old School
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus © 2014
Listening to old school
slow jams
Slowly transports me back
when melodies were sang to subliminally woo the panties off the ladies
when love pumped through the speakers, making you sway back and forth and wanna grab the one you love
If it wasn't the one you loved, it was the one you loved for that moment
When a familiar song plays and grabs the attention like an elephant in the room. The music starts to play
everyone throws up their hands yelling,"Heyyyyy!"
Music has a way of bringing everyone together like that
Freddie, Luther, Aretha, Anita
Responsible for baby booms, recorded in history books that they never got credit for
Old school R&B responsible for the joys of undersexed, over worked wives cleaning their homes forgetting for a moment that they are unwanted.
Old school, classics, works of artistic love wind, flowing through the air of the love starved optimistic ears of people
R&B never really gets old
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus © 2014
Listening to old school
slow jams
Slowly transports me back
when melodies were sang to subliminally woo the panties off the ladies
when love pumped through the speakers, making you sway back and forth and wanna grab the one you love
If it wasn't the one you loved, it was the one you loved for that moment
When a familiar song plays and grabs the attention like an elephant in the room. The music starts to play
everyone throws up their hands yelling,"Heyyyyy!"
Music has a way of bringing everyone together like that
Freddie, Luther, Aretha, Anita
Responsible for baby booms, recorded in history books that they never got credit for
Old school R&B responsible for the joys of undersexed, over worked wives cleaning their homes forgetting for a moment that they are unwanted.
Old school, classics, works of artistic love wind, flowing through the air of the love starved optimistic ears of people
R&B never really gets old
white picket fences
Poem title: White Picket Fences
Written by Luchetta Manus
©2014
Written by Luchetta Manus
©2014
Castles without kings
Queens void of meaning
Our princes and princesses left dreaming
Of clean streets, walking dogs, and white picket fences
Of sun shine day with fewer clouds of rain
Brought about by causes
The effects of our consequences
The devil wrecked our defenses
Destroyed our families
Chaos in the black community
Left with the bag of tragedy
Epic sagas
We make poverty look good
Wearing Gucci,Louis Vuitton, Nike, and Prada
We need mending
With happy endings
We are conditioned to accept lies given
Our identity eliminated
We are not what we were destined to be
They were thieves
Molding us unto their liking
Now they spitefully
Take what belongs to us and become blasphemous
We are lost
Needing to come unto the knowledge of the King and Queens we really are
We are great
Numerous as the stars
Healing may still come after the scars
The would needs back our Kings and Queens
Queens wombs possessing the birth of many dreams
Castles with their Kings
Our princes and princesses living their lives with wings
©2014
Queens void of meaning
Our princes and princesses left dreaming
Of clean streets, walking dogs, and white picket fences
Of sun shine day with fewer clouds of rain
Brought about by causes
The effects of our consequences
The devil wrecked our defenses
Destroyed our families
Chaos in the black community
Left with the bag of tragedy
Epic sagas
We make poverty look good
Wearing Gucci,Louis Vuitton, Nike, and Prada
We need mending
With happy endings
We are conditioned to accept lies given
Our identity eliminated
We are not what we were destined to be
They were thieves
Molding us unto their liking
Now they spitefully
Take what belongs to us and become blasphemous
We are lost
Needing to come unto the knowledge of the King and Queens we really are
We are great
Numerous as the stars
Healing may still come after the scars
The would needs back our Kings and Queens
Queens wombs possessing the birth of many dreams
Castles with their Kings
Our princes and princesses living their lives with wings
©2014
here before
Poem title: Here Before
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus ©2014
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus ©2014
Maybe somewhere back in history
We lived Greek Mythology
And divine entities were jealous
Of what you and i shared
Punished us unaware
We lived Greek Mythology
And divine entities were jealous
Of what you and i shared
Punished us unaware
Maybe in our past lives
I perished before you
I returned as something else
You never knew
It was me
The gods were being cruel
I perished before you
I returned as something else
You never knew
It was me
The gods were being cruel
Or maybe you were my Romeo
and I your Juliet
And just as we met
It was time to go
Our love not having the chance to grow
and I your Juliet
And just as we met
It was time to go
Our love not having the chance to grow
What if today
In the modern world
We are many worlds apart
Figuratively speaking
Literally seeing you
everyday
We are living with these
unexplained voids in our hearts
Our wandering souls
Searching for each whole half of us to be a complete whole part
In the modern world
We are many worlds apart
Figuratively speaking
Literally seeing you
everyday
We are living with these
unexplained voids in our hearts
Our wandering souls
Searching for each whole half of us to be a complete whole part
Or maybe its not you its me with girly dreams and womanly fantasies
Trying to remain delusional
To the meaning
That maybe it wasn't meant to be
Trying to remain delusional
To the meaning
That maybe it wasn't meant to be
arrested development
Poem title: Arrested Development
Wrirten By: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus
Poem the Spitmagazine Chapbook @2014
Wrirten By: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus
Poem the Spitmagazine Chapbook @2014
Can you show me who love is?
Put out an APB?
Love
He is infamous
Can put love in a line up?
Point him out to me?
I am a victim of loves imposturous abuse
Love
Was taken upon my birth, and violently ripped from me
Extracted from the warmth of this world
I never asked to be apart of that
I was a product of what i guess was love
Maybe...
I admit
I used love's name a few time
It fell from my lips upon favored ears
But it wasn't real love
I've heard stories about love
Songs about love
People giving up their lives all in the name of love
But love,he passed me by
Love is mysterious and far removed from me
I am envious
Of those who have found him
Put out an APB?
Love
He is infamous
Can put love in a line up?
Point him out to me?
I am a victim of loves imposturous abuse
Love
Was taken upon my birth, and violently ripped from me
Extracted from the warmth of this world
I never asked to be apart of that
I was a product of what i guess was love
Maybe...
I admit
I used love's name a few time
It fell from my lips upon favored ears
But it wasn't real love
I've heard stories about love
Songs about love
People giving up their lives all in the name of love
But love,he passed me by
Love is mysterious and far removed from me
I am envious
Of those who have found him
new world order
Poem title: New World Order
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus
©2014
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus
©2014
Liars
Thieves
Fakes, frauds, and phonies Wolves in sheep's clothing Talkin like y'all know me Government Officials Spiritual Wickedness in high places While the righteous occupy Lowly spaces
Poverty fills our nation
The sane Is the new "crazy" Manson's babies
Women Having surgeries to fit in Natural is a sin They've taken the throne from our men
Kings and queens
Are who we really are Numerous as the stars
We can be better Than what we are
Thieves
Fakes, frauds, and phonies Wolves in sheep's clothing Talkin like y'all know me Government Officials Spiritual Wickedness in high places While the righteous occupy Lowly spaces
Poverty fills our nation
The sane Is the new "crazy" Manson's babies
Women Having surgeries to fit in Natural is a sin They've taken the throne from our men
Kings and queens
Are who we really are Numerous as the stars
We can be better Than what we are
hugs
Title: no title yet
Written by: Luchetta (cookee) Manus
@2014
Written by: Luchetta (cookee) Manus
@2014
Four arms embraced and intertwined with one another
Two souls
Making both parts one whole
Two souls
Making both parts one whole
glory
"I wanna make it to the finish line in life where my ultimate prize for me is death and glory" -Luchetta (Cookee) Manus
©2014
©2014
Skilled silence
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus
©2015
©2015
Poem
Title: Skilled Silence
My smile is deceptive
Sometimes I keep my thoughts silent in my head, so that devils, or people
cannot hear my weaknesses.
I choke my fears as to silence them, so they cannot be heard,
and the only evidence of them are my tears that I shed alone in private without
chocking my voice.
I attempt to suffocate my fears a failed attempt to withhold my
tears, yet the fears just will not die. My emotions lay still and dormant. I
become numb and they wait until it is their time. Time for them to invade my
mind and cause confusion as they often do.
This leaves me blind to my potential and ultimately, I am invisible.
In the hallway
POEM TITLE: IN THE HALLWAY
WRITTEN BY: LUCHETTA (COOKEE) MANUS
©2015
WRITTEN BY: LUCHETTA (COOKEE) MANUS
©2015
I harbor
Passions inside me
A yearning to become
All that I was
meant to be
I have dreams as big as football fields
Refusing to yield
To my fading will
I stand still and firm
Preparedness
For when it is my turn
I moved from point A
I want to make it to point B
Asking God to
be content with
What is in between
Passions inside me
A yearning to become
All that I was
meant to be
I have dreams as big as football fields
Refusing to yield
To my fading will
I stand still and firm
Preparedness
For when it is my turn
I moved from point A
I want to make it to point B
Asking God to
be content with
What is in between
This too shall pass
TITLE: THIS TOO SHALL PASS
3/15/15 ©2015
WRITTEN BY: LUCHETTA (COOKEE) MANUS
Tears streaming down her face on a regular basis, could not saturate the barren desert in her heart.
Inner peace was her expectation from her Heavenly Father to deliver her from her discord.
She wondered within herself was she being a faithful steward, or was her creator displeased with her for some reason.
Maybe this is punishment from past transgressions. However, this did not explain the cards dealt from her broken childhood.
If in fact she was a good steward, then why all of her heartache?
She held strong to her faith even while questioning the sovereignty of the One she could not see.
If wavering only for a moments time only brought back to her memory her identity of how great she really is
Then she dried her tears, stood up, and attempted to live
Poem title: Daddy Issues
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus ©2015
Written by: Luchetta (Cookee) Manus ©2015
Broken bottle glass once filled with valuable purpose, now sparingly cover the side walk surfaces, along with shatter dreams, and lost identity.
No reconciliation for what was lost nothing found. No recollection of what love and what living life really means
Like a beautiful garment torn at the seams . Can What is torn be stitched back together perfectly?
A small part of me is left empty. Void of fond memories that everyone can recall but me.
One moment at a time until they become hours, then days.I am praying for a Phase of complete healing to take place in my heart.
The Father filling the void of a father
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