Sunday, October 28, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Massa N'em
(my spelling Van Lier)
My research has taken me back to this Swiss Mountains. Of course this is Massa's people not necessarily mine but I do have the "Van Leer" last name so my ancestors definitely worked their land. At one point A.W. Van Leer had 114 slaves which means he was doing very well for himself (because of my ancestors). I may or may not have the Swiss/German and even Russian blood the "Van Leers'" did but then again we don't know who was Massa's chillin either. It's good to know your history but what I'm finding, a "Van Leer" had a hand in clearing out some of the Midwest including Western PA which means he raped, killed and destroyed the Native Americans who were already residing in this area. But anyway that's just 200 years ago and a couple million savages just wandering around. This is also so eerily my history also because my ancestors obviously did a lot for middle Tennessee and I believe a lot of PA in the Philadelphia and Reading, PA areas. Stay tuned for my research and anger. Here is Massa's website www.vanleerplus.org
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
A Change is Going to Come

Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Mi tattoo
Monday, June 18, 2007
Saying hello after long time

Hey there! This is for the -10 people who view this blog. I haven't said anything in a while. Probably because I've been depressed. Not because of anything specific my hormones just don't like me very much. To the left is the ring I wear everyday celebrating being a woman.
Give me some time I'll be back. Soon as my seratonin decides what it wants to do. Hopefully the levels with start to go up now that it is nice and sunny out.
Friday, April 13, 2007
April is Poetry Month

Celebrate Poetry Month
I would like to share this poem I thought was a good one. By a black woman Gladys May Casley-Hayford
My Lips
My lips were buds of innocence until you came one day
And drew a fountain from my heart and careless went your way,My lips were hungry, eager flowers curved in ecstatic bliss
To gather the soft sweetness of my next lover's kiss.My lips were luscious ripeness of a crushed and poisoned vine
When you bent your lips upon me and my soft ones clung to thineMy lips are withering fading flowers, full weary unto death
Dew without moisture is thy kiss; wind without heat thy breath.A fugitive tear wells up from my eyes and is secretly, silently shed.
Are lips that once were innocent, so withered, so parched, so dead?
Monday, April 9, 2007
Where's Spring!!
