The Turning Pedals

So I have been on a biking journey, pedaling every morning within different areas of the world. It has seemed to be an adventure, a good one of course or I would not be eager to rise at 6am and soar through the morning turning pedals and sighting differences in me as well as the world. My choice of music at first was something loud and full of energy to get my feet and legs going. Then I seemed to change, I wanted relaxing music, not to get me through the ride but to keep me "IN" the ride. I didn't want this to feel like the everyday workout that you have to push yourself through. This was my morning ride and this was nice especially since I'm gaining the benefits of both mind and body enjoyment.

Yes, I was a little kid again on some days. However the unbalanced sway took me to a giggle. I can't do it like I use to, you know that hands free ride. I'm sure I can though, just not yet. But if I did it back then, by all means I can choose to do it again. I think my favorite part was the after affects. That moment you get off the bike and your legs are numb and you are walking but feel like your still riding. Or maybe it was those steep side streets that I always smiled at and thought "why not" as I turned up them, now standing up in full pedal mode reaching the top to turn around and come flying back down.

What lovely memories this bike has brought me about my childhood and what a great journey it has had me pedalling through.

(c) 2011 Ebony Larijani

I Search Earth, Not The Medicine Cabinet

It may be rare to many...

"Go cut a piece of Aloe for me and bring it in" 

My children here this often...

A skin cut, aloe..., face mask, aloe..., morning shake, aloe...

I remember when Angelou Maya said "It has already been paved for you" and yes it has! My ancestors already knew this way, it was just lost along the way. But pavement always stands firm...

(c) 2011 Ebony Larijani

My Pillow Rocks Beats

I can't believe all these years I was missing the beat
Drunk in clubs tapping my feet
Stumbling into arms of strangers
That became friends
and then danger
My pillow rocks a nice beat
I lay amongst it stretched out feet
Scripting the night away with my own facts
No harassing or shoulder taps
Meditation vibes draping through the speakers
No dress code
under the bed, heels and sneakers
Breathing practices, release of all
Slightly opened window to inhale it all
Last call may be 1, 2 or 3 AM
no repeated prayer of please get me home safe again


(c) 2011 Ebony Larijani

Perfection, Not My Style

Perfection is not my style, perfection has no interest in my life. I want to be free to express myself and I want to be free to show my human ways. I want to be honest when I script about life and things going on. Shame does not lie here because the lie would be shameful. I want you to know that if I feed you a bible verse it is possible that I found it in the center of my own tears, in search of something to feed me better then what I had been feasting on. I want you to know that the poem I wrote yesterday could be the product of what I became when I was sitting in my counceling session. I want you to know that my friends are not perfect and the way I treat them at times is pretty darn rude, but the result of this is honesty when both friends realize our lack. I want you to know that I cheated on life when I cheated as a wife leaving opportunity for a damaged future. I want you to know that I found affirmations to share with you the day I realized my mind made me feel like I had split personalities. I want you to know that humility finds me often and it creates a overflow of alphabet letters when spilt in embarrassment. I want you to know that hiding my mistakes would shape something so cracked and broken, and I don't want you to see through me, I want you to see me. The real me, flaws and all...

(c) 2011 Ebony Larijani

The Opposite Sex Friendship

They went from cheating on the one's they loved
To breaking their own hearts by staying away
Then they rewrote their friendship
And now that they are the best of friends
He often asks if there is something wrong with him
And she often feels like she isn't good enough
Because the ego inside them both won't let them see
That they have a beautiful bond
A high level of self respect
And an awareness of the relationship between male and female friends
Because when they are together
Everything stays on, even down to her sweater

(c) 2011 Ebony Larijani

Writers Block

She couldn't script what she was thinking
to busy worried about others thinking
wondering, curious, consumed
no thinking about her self
except to wonder how they had her labeled on the shelf
and so she was left without script
and everything lay bare on the tip
she walked stressed
returning to her floor in and out of penmanship

(c) 2011 Ebony Larijani

A Waisted Day

Have you ever done nothing all day. Only for the day to come to an end and you felt like it was waisted. Then you put guilt on yourself only to wish you could start it over again, but you can't. Now your angry that you waisted it and to make things worse you can't start it over again.

What defines a waisted day? The fact that you had baskets full of laundry that didn't get done. Dinner that never got cooked. Writing that never got done. Cleaning that is still in it's mess.

How do you overcome that feeling at 5pm? You don't, you just accept it. Not everything has to have an outlet of a way of overcoming. Some things just need to be accepted. So what I waisted my day. I enjoyed doing nothing and I accept the fact that I should have done something, but I didn't and that is that.

(c) 2011 Ebony Larijani